Minutes and Hours
by WhoMe-2
Summary: Struggling with the loss of Rose, the Doctor shatters the rules in order to see her one last time. The repercussions prove severe when a glimpse from afar is not enough.
1. Prologue

**A/N **For those not familiar with the previous stories in this 'verse, this could still be read on its own as a post-Doomsday piece, though it will include references to the previous fics. The larger planned sequel, _Beginning Again,_ will follow after this angsty yet necessary intermediate tale.

For the Doctor, this takes place after the events of _Beginning Where We End _and the standalone piece _Synchronicity_. And in the timeframe of the series, before _Smith and Jones_, during the companionless period when the Doctor described himself as "just wandering."

* * *

**Prologue **

The Doctor was alone. In aching truth, this had often been his familiar state of existence.

_Same old life. Last of the Time Lords._

He was a man who had experienced his share of solitude through the long, weary centuries, but never had he felt this degree of desolation. Perhaps that was because his losses continued to compound until they now surpassed anything he had once attained. Or perhaps because the emptiness that now existed inside was left by the one for whom he had made a dangerous allowance. The one who had gained access into the deepest recesses of his soul.

Rose.

Even though he had initially fought against such a risky incursion, she had still managed to breach his defenses, leaving nothing left untouched within him. And thus, nothing left undamaged by her severance from the very core of his being.

Though the words had not come easily, their truth had transcended the limits of language. He loved her. Maybe more than he should have. Certainly more than was safe. Perhaps more than was wise, if the current condition of his fragmented hearts was anything to go by.

He had finally allowed his walls to come down and surrendered himself over to loving Rose on every level – mind, body and soul. Forming a sacred, inseverable bond with another being had carried the extreme risk of this current agony. And yet, brave or foolhardy, it was a risk he had taken. The depth of what they had shared, if only briefly, was now matched only by the depth of what had been lost.

Moving forward in the immediate aftermath had not even come by choice. He had been thrust into a new set of circumstances before the savage tears of separation had a chance to dry. He had done what he so often did and rose to Earth's defense yet again. But during this brave fight, he had not even been able to speak of Christmas past, recall the Powell Estate, or simply catch a glimpse of flowing blonde hair without being drug back down by the long talons of grief's powerful clutches.

He had also nearly died in the midst of it all – and not just inwardly. If not for the intervention of the brazen human who had served as his temporary comrade that day, the drowning death of his adversaries would have been his own.

Yet in the end, he had somehow made it through another mad day. And in so doing, he had even thought that maybe he had found a possible friend who might be able to at least keep him sane.

She didn't want to stay, though. And he told himself that was fine. Even if she had, it never would have been permanent. Those who came into his life never were.

The woman had, however, asked just one thing of him in parting, as she looked into his eyes with a little more empathy than he was comfortable with.

'_Just...promise me one thing. Find someone.'_

The Doctor's face had hardened as his hearts did the same, just a fraction more. He didn't need to find someone else. The last thing he needed was more inevitable pain that would follow more inevitable loss.

'_I don't need anyone.'_

His stoic words had not convinced either of them.

'_Yes, you do,'_ she had countered with bold compassion. _'Because sometimes I think you need someone to stop you.'_

The Doctor had felt an icy shiver course down his spine when he considered what he might be capable of if Rose's loss tore just one more millimeter of fragile flesh from his hearts.

'_Yeah,'_ he had breathed in acknowledgement of the truth, his voice a broken whisper.

He hadn't realized at the time how ominous a proclamation those words would become. There was no one to stop him now. No staying hand to temper his own. Time's Lord would soon stand at the crossroads, desperation driving him to lay aside his title in illicit exchange for another:

Time's Thief.

-:-:-:-

The Doctor stood in the vacant console room, staring blankly at the Time Rotor which pumped rhythmically, aimlessly.

He had moved on from saying a final goodbye to Rose. Moved on from his mad encounter with Donna. Moved on from one last trip to the place where his bond with Rose had been formed, in hopes of finding a modicum of closure.

But he had not _moved_ _on_.

This was a skill he should have mastered by now in retrospect of his life. Time continued its ceaseless progression as seconds became minutes and hours and days. He was so tired. Tired of feeling void of emotion save for pain. Even if centuries were to pass, he knew the pain of Rose's loss would burn with him until his final death. She had become a part of him. He had opened himself to her, joined with her, and woven them more closely together than he had dared with any other. The absence of her presence in his mind was itself becoming enough to nearly drive him insane.

Even just a touch of insanity had perilous potential in the hands of a being such as himself. It could be a catalyst to spur reckless thoughts and dangerous actions.

Were the notions currently creeping into his thoughts truly reckless, though? He could not undo the costly battle that had taken place or tear down the walls between universes to reclaim what had been stolen, and he would not attempt such deadly endeavors.

He only yearned to be granted one thing, and it did not seem to be such an unreasonable desire.

Time.

Surely _he_, out of all the lifeforms in existence, could be allowed this simple wish. Time, however, was the one thing he could not control, regardless of his title.

Time was not his to command, but his tormented mind began to reason that surely he could be allowed, at the very least, to make one slight alteration. He just needed to _see_ Rose one more time. Just once more. And she _was_ out there, burning an indomitable trail through all of Time and space, her timeline spanning past, present and future – calling to him, taunting him, haunting his every breath.

If he could just snatch a glimpse, see her smile, hear her voice, catch her scent, or watch her _breathe_ and bottle every precious stolen second inside and hide it away, then maybe the intense ache within would be dulled just enough to become tolerable.

This one desperate thought sent his tortured mind whirling, and the whirlwind left him unbalanced in its wake.

Or _maybe_, he thought with a disturbing thread of distorted reasoning, it gave him clarity – sweeping away the tangled mass of grief to see the possibilities.

He was the only Time Lord left in existence. He alone had all of Time at his beck and call. Yet he lived chained by dead, ancient rules that kept him from ever allowing his position to serve him – to _save_ him. Harsh rules that said he could never go back.

Maybe once, _just once_, it was time to blur the rules. Blur, not destroy. There would be no lasting danger in that, would there? He had already brought a sun to its death just to tell Rose goodbye. Surely this was harmless by comparison.

The Doctor drew a quaking breath as a terrifying, magnificent plan spread its tendrils and took root. He was either losing his grip on sanity or _finally_ thinking clearly. Either way, the Doctor's steps had purpose at last as he strode to the controls of the TARDIS and toward a single quest.

If the rules were ever worth discarding, they were worth discarding for _this_. He was going to see Rose Tyler one last time.


	2. Chapter 1

**A/N **Thank you to those who have reviewed so far! I'd nearly forgotten how these chapters could take such a ridiculous chunk of my time, so it's always good to hear if it's being enjoyed…or even if you simply want to scream at the Doctor. ;)

* * *

**Chapter 1**

The Doctor had set the first foot on a slippery slope, and he was about to take that initial perilous step. Having made up his mind to step back into Rose Tyler's life and catch one final glimpse of the woman for whom he had long since abandoned sensibility, the only other choice to make was _when_. In reality, if the rules were being swept aside, then her entire past timeline in this universe was laid open to him, presenting ample possibilities. Considering the risks, he could only dare attempt this once, so what point in her life should he choose? Before they met? Before he changed? Before they bonded?

No.

He wanted to see her when she had been fully and unequivocally _his_. Such a period had come, tragically, just before she had been lost to him. They had experienced several precious months together exploring their new relationship before it had been taken away. That had not been enough time by any stretch of the imagination, but it was enough to pinpoint a timeframe when he would have the opportunity to see Rose while posing the least amount of risk by doing so.

This would involve finding a period of time when _he_ had been out of the way. The Doctor needed to locate a suitable moment when his past self had not been on hand, or had at least been preoccupied and would not be in a position to stumble upon…himself. Crossing his own timeline was not only a forbidden act, it was highly dangerous. The Doctor knew what he was doing was reckless, but that didn't mean he had to be an utter fool in the matter. With sufficient precautions taken, he reasoned to himself that there should be no tremendous danger to the timelines or established events by taking this calculated risk.

The Doctor recalled a period just shortly before their separation – one that might prove to be his best opportunity for this. He had begun instructing Rose on how to pilot the TARDIS, forging an even deeper relationship between his bond mate and his ship. For Rose's maiden flight, they had synchronistically navigated the stars to finally arrive upon the planet Barcelona, not realizing at the time that it had been under attack.

A rogue group of Sontarans had been responsible for the unrest. The small but deadly band of clone warriors consisted of genetically flawed representations of the race, reduced to a life of menial labor rather than battle. Upon escape from the scorn of their own kind, they were bent on waging war with any world they encountered. Unfortunately for the planet Barcelona, it had found itself in this deadly path. The Sontarans possessed primitive time travel technology by utilizing Osmic Projections. This had limited temporal range, but it allowed them to venture further into the planet's future with the hope of encountering an even more advanced race and greater challenge in battle.

Their challenge and subsequent downfall, however, had come in the form of the Doctor and Rose. He had given them a choice: leave the planet in peace or suffer the cost. For a race who considered it the highest honor to die in battle, their choice had not been a surprising one.

It had not been pleasant. Being forced to take mortal action when an enemy chose the destructive path never was. Yet Rose had been there to ground him yet again, helping the Doctor to see the preservation that came from his hand, and not solely the destruction.

In the end, he and Rose had helped to end the conflict and had been given a place of honor at the celebratory banquet which followed. They rarely stayed to receive accolades in the aftermath of such events, but the Doctor had reached a place of determining that he and Rose would miss nothing, but rather would embrace every possible experience during their time together, so the exception had been made. The celebration had also served to reaffirm life, diverting from the unpleasant conflict that had taken place.

In casting his mind back to the event, the Doctor recalled how Rose had taken his breath away that night in the traditional Barcelonan gown she had worn. The halter-style bodice provided a tantalizing glimpse of cleavage, tied alluringly behind her neck, and cut low in the rear to expose the smooth expanse of her back, while the wispy asymmetrical skirt dipped below her left knee and sliced a high path up her right thigh, amplifying her long, toned legs. The fabric, which molded to her body like silken skin, was deep red but iridescent, shimmering like a solar flare.

The sight of her alone had aroused every atom of his being and progressively stripped away every ounce of his control. And later that night, when they were once again alone on the TARDIS and feeble resistance was no longer possible, he had demonstrated to Rose just how affected he was by her life and vibrancy and very essence – how intoxicated and wholly consumed.

The Doctor wanted that night back. He wanted _Rose_ back. Since he could not have either, he could at least lay eyes upon her at a time when their future still existed, if only in their hopes and dreams; a time when she had been smiling and not weeping; a time when she had been whole, and not in as broken a state as him.

The Doctor thirsted for this sight of Rose, but he was still mindful of the danger and would take precautions so that Time would not be damaged in the process. During that night's celebrations, he remembered being called away to assist with a minor glitch in Barcelona's new security system which he had helped to put in place. And at the time, Rose had been engaged in conversation with Barcelona's chief ambassador, and so had stayed behind to await his soon return to the banquet.

Those vital moments when his past self had not been present would give him the gap he needed to slip in unnoticed. The plan was no longer a wild possibility in his mind. He was doing this. One glimpse. That was all. Just one.

-:-:-:-

The journey to the prohibited destination was not an easy one. The TARDIS fought against the unlawful coordinates tooth and nail, the crossing of timelines going against her core nature. There were protocols the Doctor had to circumvent and a few navigational components he had to take off-line altogether in order to make the trip. He mentally tried to assure the TARDIS that this was not an extreme risk; he intended to take precautions. The response he received was a violent shower of sparks from the console that nearly disabled the ship. He got the message. But he still was not backing down.

Once he finally managed to arrive, rather roughly, at the selected location and time, the Doctor altered the TARDIS' timestream by placing her one second out of sync. In that way, this act would cause one less disturbance by eliminating the problematic factor of having a past and present TARDIS co-existing simultaneously. It would help ease the ship's discomfort while also making his presence less detectable.

With that protective measure taken upon exiting, the Doctor left the troubled TARDIS behind and moved through the streets of Barcelona, following the ghostly path of his past footsteps.

The night air was sultry, but a steady breeze tempered the receding heat of day. Above, sporadic fireworks lit the sky as celebrations continued throughout the region. It felt like walking through a former dream, and a hot thrill ran up his spine as the familiar sights, sounds and scents of this night were relived – the quaint stone architecture and tight-knit alleyways, the sounds far and near of lively festivities taking place, and the cleansing aroma of fresh rain that had fallen in the heat of late afternoon – the revived sensory experience made him feel alive again; made him recall what it felt like to have truly lived.

He wasn't far from the Regal Manor of the region's Governor. The festivities were being held within the primary banquet hall. He could hear the growing sound of assembled revelers as he neared the location. The Doctor made his way from the darkness of the streets, sonicked the iron gate at the rear garden and crossed into the warm glow emanating from within the manor as it washed across the outside terrace. The rear glass doors were open, festivities taking place within and spilling over to the outside as pockets of guests reveled outdoors. The thrum of music and laughter seasoned the air, growing louder as he drew closer to the rear entrance where the majority was congregated within.

Effortlessly, the Doctor slipped inside, surrounded by a mass of joyful guests. His eyes barely even took notice of the crowd. The lavishly adorned banquet hall with its floor-to-ceiling arched windows, opulent cut-glass tiles, and ceiling graced with a mural depicting the open heavens were trivial details overlooked by him as well. His vision blocked out his surroundings and cut through the crowd, searching for just one.

It didn't take long for his gaze to find what he was seeking. When his eyes settled on the object of his quest, Time stopped for him in those precious few seconds.

Rose.

_His_ Rose.

She stood a mere thirty or so feet away on the opposite side of the room. His dreams of her that had both soothed and haunted him since their separation had been astonishingly vivid, but no memory or figment of his mind could ever compare to seeing her again in the flesh, living and breathing and _real_.

Just as he had planned, he'd arrived while she was speaking with Barcelona's chief ambassador. The man was a rather boring and stuffy old official, but Rose was an effervescent participant in the conversation none the less, smiling and chatting amiably.

The Doctor devoured her appearance with famished eyes. Her crimson gown shimmered and seemed to form a radiating glow around her, like vapors of heat emanating from a sweltering surface on a summer day. The halter cut showcased her creamy shoulders which shone like porcelain. Her pinned-up golden tresses bared the long column of her neck, her pulse point exposed, the steady thrum of her life's force resounding in his own chest. His fingers curled into his empty palms, imagining what it would feel like just to touch her again. Then there was her smile, and words of comparison failed him. All he knew was that he could lose himself in such a smile and never wish to be found. But most magnetic were her eyes. He had once confessed that all of Time seemed to stand still when those eyes looked into his. It wasn't just Time. It was also the beats of his hearts and the breath in his lungs over which her eyes held control.

This one despairing man continued watching this one enrapturing woman, unnoticed from afar, straining to hear every lilting sound of her voice as it drifted through the air. A group milling by temporarily obstructed his view, and the Doctor shifted around them, desperate to keep sight of her for a few more forbidden seconds.

As much as he yearned to live in this moment, he could not risk staying here much longer. This was dangerous. So very dangerous. Not only because of the potential danger to the timelines in doing something like this, but because of the extreme danger to his hearts. How could he be here, _this close_, then turn and somehow survive the agonizing journey as he walked away? Yet that was what he now had to do. Seeing Rose again had further torn open the still-gaping wound in his soul – a wound that had not even begun to heal, and maybe never would. This…oh _this_ had been worth it, though. Just setting his burning eyes on Rose again was a precious treasure. A treasure that was worth the cost of knowing it was the last time. He would slip out into the night and no one would ever know, but he would have this one final memory locked securely inside – this final taste of life for a dying man.

Couples twirled and stepped and swayed to the elaborate and complex drum patterns of the exotic music which infused the atmosphere. Groups laughed and friends mingled. The night was in its prime with much more pleasure to be had. But not for him. Any minute, Rose would no longer be engaged in conversation and thus distracted. A few short minutes more, and his past self would return. And worse, at any moment his current self could be discovered.

The Doctor remained at a distance for just a few final seconds, obscured from sight through the concealment provided by the crowd.

Or so he thought.

He could never hide from Rose Tyler. He had never been able to accomplish it even when he tried, be it his hearts or his mere presence. He should have learned that by now.

In one breath-snatching second, Rose's eyes seemed to cut straight through the assembly surrounding them as if no one else were even present. Her gaze fixed directly to his, and for a few moments he couldn't even breathe.

Rose had seen him. This was _not_ supposed to happen. This _hadn't_ happened previously. In a distant part of his awareness, the Doctor felt the first thread of Time's fabric give way and snap.

He had to leave. _Now_. Hearts thudding in his chest, he turned on his scuffed Converse heel and wove in and out of the crowd, heading back towards the terrace and rear exit. He nearly knocked over a young couple who cut into his path. He sidestepped, veering to the right, then swerved back on a straight course toward the open rear doors.

He was nearly there. Just a few more steps and he would be clear, a phantom safely shrouded in the cloak of night.

Three steps…

Two…

"Doctor?"

Time halted.

He was a hair's breadth from the outer passage when the voice from behind stopped him cold.

Rose. _Oh_, _Rose…_

In that split second, he could feel the nauseating sensation known only to a Time Lord when established timelines became unnaturally misshapen and twisted upon themselves.

His next move could either restore events to their rightful state or shatter them into fragments, scattered throughout the wounded expanse of Time.


	3. Chapter 2

**A/N** The Doctor is faced with a consequential choice.

* * *

**Chapter 2**

_He was nearly there. Just a few more steps and he would be clear, a phantom safely shrouded in the cloak of night._

_Three steps…_

_Two…_

_"Doctor?"_

_Time halted._

_He was a hair's breadth from the outer passage when the voice from behind stopped him cold._

_Rose. Oh, Rose…_

_In that split second, he could feel the nauseating sensation known only to a Time Lord when established timelines became unnaturally misshapen and twisted upon themselves._

_His next move could either restore events to their rightful state or shatter them into fragments, scattered throughout the wounded expanse of Time._

Rose was now so close that if the Doctor were to merely turn around, he could reach out and touch her. He closed his eyes, fighting to control the overpowering desire to do just that – to touch her, to pull her into his arms and refuse to let go.

Over the rapid span of a few seconds, the Doctor frantically weighed his options, of which there were only two. He could keep going and not turn around. He could outrun the call of Rose and disappear into the darkness, leaving his mysterious behavior unexplained. This would still change the events of this night to a certain extent. Rose would find his past self and demand answers, and he would put two and two together readily enough, realizing that at some point in his future he must have, for whatever reason, crossed back into this path. But it still would not give them direct clues about their future; and thus, established timelines would remain, for the most part, intact.

Then there was option two, which would increase the danger of this situation exponentially, causing him to sink even deeper. He could turn and face Rose.

She spoke again, and the option of running without a backward glance was slipping farther and farther from reach.

"Doctor? What is it…what's wrong?" her slightly concerned, achingly-familiar voice repeated, now from an even closer proximity, directly behind him.

_Everything, _his inner voice screamed_. Everything is wrong. _

Run or stay. He knew what he needed to do. He also knew the only thing he was capable of doing.

The Doctor turned slowly, coming face-to-face with the woman who was now forbidden to him. His mind, however, was not focused on the grim fact that she should not be standing before him. It was focused solely on the glorious fact that she was. She was here. _Right here_. Rose Tyler was within arm's reach. He could take her hand in his and run. Run and keep on running – if Time wouldn't splinter around them, that was. Such a simple thing, taking her hand and running without care. It had once been second nature for them. It was now a simple act for anyone _but_ them.

With famished eyes fastened to hers, the Doctor opened his mouth to somehow respond, but what could he possibly say? Lost in her gaze as he was, it was becoming increasingly difficult to find _anything_ about this moment that was wrong.

"Nothing's wrong, Rose," he choked out in reply. "I…I was just…"

Rose interrupted him with a playful retort, her sparkling eyes making him ache inside. "Oh, I know what you were doing. Tryin' to get out of dancing, is that it? And you thought you'd just slip back in to make sure I wasn't with anyone else either, hmm?" She shook her head. "Not gonna work. 'Cause you can't decide to stay for the celebrations and then refuse me just one dance, now can you?" She lowered her tone to the pitch that always made his control slip. "Especially seeing as how you're the only one here I want to dance with."

"Rose," he exhaled shakily, "I…wasn't trying to refuse you, believe me. If it were within my power, I would never refuse you a single thing. I'd give you the whole of creation, if I could."

An adoring smile graced her face. "Well, I'm not asking for _that_ much." Her voice became soft. "Just you."

A pained sound rose up in his throat. The Doctor couldn't even form a reply. He was at a total loss.

Rose reached out for his hand and found it, sliding her palm along his own and threading their fingers together. The gesture nearly shattered him, and his fingers reflexively clutched at her own, filling the space that had been so utterly empty. He didn't even question how he was going to let go. His only need in this moment was to hold on.

"You deserve this, you know? To let yourself celebrate for once. You _saved_ everyone, Doctor. And even fixed their security system glitch in record time, 'cause like you're always sayin', you're just that clever. All the trouble is behind us now." She gave his hand a light, enticing tug. "So c'mon. Let's have at least one dance before we move on, yeah?"

"R-Rose, I…"

The Doctor's voice fell short as he swallowed painfully, each of her words slicing straight through him. One dance together before moving on. That was all she wanted. So simple. Yet so far beyond their reach.

Or was it?

The Doctor recalled what he knew of this night and was aware that his past self would not be rejoining Rose for several more minutes. He knew exactly how long it would be down to the second, actually. His Time Lord intellect had the duration precisely cataloged, because he remembered exactly how long they had been apart on this night. He had _always_ remembered how much time lapsed when they were apart, which was why the ticking clock since Canary Wharf had been tearing away another piece of himself with each passing second, driving his current actions.

The Doctor's desperate mind made a frantic appraisal of the situation, trying to calculate how this could somehow be accomplished. If he were to stay just a few minutes longer and give Rose _and_ himself this one last dance, he could suppress her memory of these few moments immediately afterwards. Like a forgotten dream, it would fade from her consciousness when he left, and she would continue on exactly as she had on this night as if he had not been here at all. Others would think nothing of seeing her with him, thinking it was the version of himself that was meant to be here. All of this would cause a wrinkle in Time's fabric, yes. But nothing catastrophic.

As for his past self, his Time Sense had no doubt already picked up on a disturbance due to two versions of himself coexisting at the same time and place. But the invading Sontarans had used Osmic Projection technology to achieve limited time travel, and the primitive means left residual temporal eddies which had already been an irritant to his sensitive perception, he recalled. So his past self would simply equate any prickling unease to the planet's recent temporal disturbance.

When it came right down to it, there was no need to try to make these rationalizations to himself at all. He already knew what his response to her would be. He could not deny either of them this, even if he should.

One dance before moving on.

The Doctor nodded, a small but significant movement, followed with quiet words.

"Yeah. One dance."

Time bent a little further out of shape in that instant, but the Doctor pushed the awareness aside. He would have this moment.

Hands linked, the Doctor and Rose moved effortlessly together through the crowded room to find an open place. The low, rhythmic drum beats had slowed, carrying an almost hypnotic quality. Or maybe that was solely the woman by his side having such an effect.

They found a small clearing and drew to a stop, turning to face each other. His hands gravitated out and came to a natural resting place on her hips as her arms draped over his shoulders, fingers lacing behind his neck. She pressed herself close, and the warmth, the feel, the scent of her was almost too much. He nearly drew back just to snatch a breath, but inevitably pulled her tighter instead.

"Show me your moves, Time Lord," she intoned seductively.

Under the circumstances, maybe it should have felt wrong, but flirting back was as natural as the feel of her in his arms. "I'll show you mine if you show me yours…"

Their harmonized movement began, and the Doctor was instantly lost to anything but this – just him, just her. It was virtually beyond comprehension that Rose was in his arms again. Being here, however, was creating a paradox on many levels. Simply being with Rose like this again felt so intrinsically _right_, and yet it was so exceedingly wrong. The Doctor fought steadfastly to silence the inner warning to flee. Right or wrong, this would only last a moment. He simply wanted to bask in the reality of having Rose near again – to be able to look into her eyes, to see her smile, to hear her voice, to touch her skin, to smell her essence and have it all be _real_, not a mere memory locked away in the tormented solitude of his mind.

His mind. _Oh_, how it ached to touch hers. Since the division of their bond, he had blocked out what was left of their link within his own mind, dampening the severed fragments to lessen the pain. But now, he wanted to rouse it back to life and let her consume him. He had to continue to keep his end of their link closed, though. If Rose were to feel his presence infiltrating her from two sources it would be overwhelming, to say nothing of problematic.

But while mental touch was not feasible, physical touch _was_ permissible, and his yearning fingers took all that was allowed. This body had always been tactile, craving contact and the solace of a living touch. Maybe it was the desolation of war, or maybe it was being reborn in the presence of Rose Tyler. Regardless, he needed to feel her – her vibrant human body blazing with life.

His hands coasted up her sides, palms molding to the gentle dips and curvatures of her feminine physique beneath the smooth, lustrous fabric of her fiery dress. With slow precision, he allowed his hands to drift around to her back where her dress dipped low. The moment he came in contact with the hot skin along her spine, a sharp breath was wrenched from his throat, sending fire shooting down his own spinal column. The sensitive pads of his fingers swirled and caressed, titillating every sensory receptor between their connected flesh.

The music's sultry tempo increased. His eyes found hers, gazing at him beneath hooded lids, something dangerous and daring flickering within her warm irises.

Possessively, his hands raked back down to her hips and clutched, holding her close as they stepped and turned in unison – forward, back, a tight spin, a diagonal shift – their coordination in perfect sync as the low drum beat reverberated in their chests.

When the arousing cadence of their synchronized bodies became dizzying, they slowed, and Rose tucked her head beneath his chin and laid her cheek to his chest. They remained that way for several moments, breathing as one.

"You're awfully quiet tonight," she softly observed, head still cradled to his chest. Her next words carried a hint of a smile. "Or is that because dancing with me leaves you speechless?"

She always felt a thrill over such things, he knew. His moments when desire overtook his control exhilarated her almost as much as it terrified him.

His hands smoothed up her back, then slowly down, his voice low and thick. "It's not the dancing that's responsible."

He could feel her smile against him in response.

The Doctor wished that this one moment could go on and never end. He was lost in her, to the point that keeping the slow rhythm took too much of his concentration away from Rose, and he nearly came to a full stop.

All too soon, he became aware again of the ticking seconds counting down, the reminder that this moment was as fleeting as his next breath.

Rose tipped her head up to look into his face, studying the complexity there.

"What are you thinking?" she softly questioned, brows furrowed as she identified the solemnity within his eyes. She knew him so well – could tell when the weight he bore was particularly heavy. "So many thoughts always swimming in that great big mind of yours…"

He paused, drew a breath and shook his head. "Right now it's hard to think about anything but this. _You_. Just you."

They drew to a stop, their rhythmic swaying coming to a standstill. She gazed into his eyes as her hands brushed down his chest. He knew the current look which blazed within her eyes, turning irises to fire. It was the look that always sent his own temperature flaming, blood running hot as a human, impulses making him feel like one. _Rassilon_, how he'd missed it.

"Want to know what I'm thinking?" she spoke in a sultry purr near his ear, lips nearly grazing the outer curve. He swallowed. "I'm thinking that we should finish this…_dance_ in the TARDIS."

The Doctor froze. This was it. They obviously could not go further and thus could not go on any longer. He would have to lock this memory away from her now and leave.

A shuddering breath departed his lungs. "C'mere," he whispered hoarsely, drawing her into an even closer embrace. His lips brushed over the top of her head. "First let's just…stay here, just like this, a minute more. Just…just a minute more."

Time continued its relentless countdown. Slowly, hesitatingly, he lifted his hand to her temple with the intention of erasing these brief few minutes from her recollection. He _desperately_ yearned for more time. But then, no amount of time with her could have ever been enough in the end. He had known this from the moment they met.

Just as his fingers made resigned contact with her skin, Rose whispered the words that stilled his every movement.

"I love you."

His trembling hand fell away and he nearly sobbed. The Doctor pulled her to him fiercely, willing Time to stop. "Rose. Oh, Rose," he whispered back shakily.

Rose eased back enough to tilt her face to his. She lifted up on her toes and brushed a ghost of a kiss across his lips, his mind flaring and lips burning at the tortured memory of sharing such intimacy. When she pulled back, his eyes focused on hers with dark intensity.

"How daring are you feeling tonight?" she queried, tone low and smoky.

His Adam's apple bobbed up and down roughly. "You have no idea."

"I s'pose the proper thing would be to wait for a formal send-off. But what'd you say we just slip away now?" She briefly glanced about at the assembled revelers and dignitaries around them, then brought her eyes back to his, dark mischief swirling in the depths of her own. "Let's just run…"

The Doctor utterly shocked himself with his reply, and if Time would demand recompense, he was willing to pay the cost.

"_Yes_."

Even as he made the insane choice, his mind was trying to reason it away. He would have to take this memory from her, so what would a few minutes or a few hours matter in the end?

The Doctor's mind was awhirl, planning just what it would take to do something like this. He realized it was shockingly-simple. He could leave now with Rose and have one last night with her – one last mad adventure. Then he could simply return her back here to this very moment in time as if she had never left. The memory, once repressed, would then fade from her within moments of him leaving. But all would not simply be erased – not for him. He would have this one last memory to hold on to.

When all was said and done, leaving her again might very well kill him. But some things were worth dying for. For now, her words were resounding in his mind and making him want to _live_, if only for this night.

'_Let's just run…'_

"You and me, Rose Tyler," he repeated back, hot breath whispering into her ear. "We'll just run…"

The Doctor took Rose's hand, and together they slipped out into the night. A night which was never meant to exist.


	4. Chapter 3

**A/N **The Doctor now has Rose, but this presents another substantial temptation. One he might not be able to withstand for long.

* * *

**Chapter 3**

Slipping out amid the celebrations had been relatively easy. Rose ran alongside the Doctor and out into the balmy night, giggling breathlessly as she sought to evade well-meaning dignitaries who may try to delay their hasty exit. The Doctor, too, was breathless, seeking to evade Time itself.

Their pace finally slowed as they moved through the dark streets of Barcelona, but the Doctor never eased his tight clasp of Rose's hand, as if she might slip through his fingers at any moment. His hearts were beating out a wild, uncoordinated rhythm in his chest with each step taken. He felt like a thief who was risking all to obtain a priceless treasure. Yet at the same time, he was only taking back what no one – no being or force – ever had the right to take away in the first place, temporary as this re-claiming might be. And it was not as if he was risking the collapse of two universes in an attempt to break through an impenetrable wall, he tried to inwardly reason. He was merely snatching a few precious hours of joyous life and would put things back in proper order afterwards. Surely he could be granted this much, if nothing else. And so long as he continued to play this carefully, this should work out without any lasting damage.

Allowing his current TARDIS to remain hidden as it was, out of sync with this past timestream, the Doctor headed with purposeful steps toward the ship that Rose and his past self had arrived in. Taking this TARDIS presented less problems in terms of explanations to Rose – explanations that would only serve to rip her heart in two. She would live with the anguish of their severance soon enough without being condemned to foreknowledge. This would also prevent the prickly situation of his past self tracking them down before they had a chance to return. And he _would_, if given even the slightest chance. If there was one person he knew all too well, it was himself. But he couldn't do it in a few hours' time with no TARDIS. Even _he_ wasn't that good.

They were nearly there now, just a few more strides to momentary freedom. To further compromise.

Up ahead, the dark silhouette of the TARDIS could be distinguished, sitting unobtrusively where he had left her on this past night, at the edge of an unassuming little corner alley a little ways beyond. A handful of steps later, the Doctor and Rose reached the TARDIS and stepped through the weathered blue doors together.

Upon entering, the TARDIS physically shuddered, jostling them as they ascended the ramp, while the Time Rotor pulsed a desperate warning. A warning the Doctor did not heed. He sent mental reassurance to his past ship, but she responded with a flare of severe caution in his mind. She could sense the timelines now twisting out of shape as well as he could.

He couldn't hide the ship's reaction from Rose, either. She had felt it, too – not just the outer reaction but the inner one. During this timeframe, Rose had recently connected even more deeply with the ship, so the TARDIS' distress was more readily detected by her.

"What's all this for, eh?" she quietly mused as she approached the console and placed a concerned hand there. She then directed her question to the Doctor. "What's wrong with her? She just seems…bothered by somethin'. Is she okay?"

The Doctor did something that made his stomach twist, yet he suspected he would be doing more of it before this night was over. He lied to her. Or at least, spun a half truth. "She's just…feeling a little queasy, is all. Time was a bit wonky here due to the Osmic Projections that mucked about with the temporal fabric, and it made her uncomfortable," he explained away. He cut a sharp look at the console. "But she will be _fine_."

"If you say so," Rose murmured, but her brows remained deeply drawn as she continued gazing at the console.

"Everything will sort itself out soon, Rose," he quietly assured her.

He assured himself of this, too. In the meantime, the Doctor steadfastly refused to allow this brief additional time with Rose to be marred by worry over staunch adherence to dead rules. He had this under full control. Everything would be fine. He firmly shoved aside all thoughts that might say otherwise, and despite protest from the TARDIS, put them into the Vortex.

In spite of reprimands from the troubled ship, the Doctor felt a sense of relief the moment they were off the planet. This newly-created paradox, though still very much in existence, was not quite as problematic now that he was not in a place where two versions of himself existed at once. It was just him and Rose. As it should be. Everything now felt much more…right. He could almost pretend she had never been lost, that they were still together, and this was yet another adventure.

A thrill coursed through him at the euphoric reality of being back in the TARDIS with Rose. He didn't want to even think about the brevity of this night. All that mattered right now was _this_ moment in time. And for this moment, Rose was with him again. He shut out everything else and focused on that glorious fact as he worked the console. As his fingers flew over gears and knobs with practiced ease, his eyes were continually drawn to her. He drank her in – every minute aspect.

Rose seemed to be eyeing him just as intently. She had been doing so since she'd first turned her attention to him after stepping in the ship.

"Doctor?" she finally asked.

"Yes, Rose?" he answered, trying to contain the surge of emotions cresting over him.

"Are _you_ okay?" she ventured further.

His automatic, defensive answer was already falling from his tongue. "I'm always–"

"Stop," she cut in. "Don't dismiss the question, alright? Just be honest."

_Honest._

Rose moved around the console and stepped up to him. Her hand lifted up toward his cheek, fingers gently skimming his face. His eyes briefly closed of their own volition. Then he felt it, a gentle probe along their link. She was still just learning to initiate it, but she was always a quick study, his remarkable Rose. He had blocked out what remained of their shattered bond within him after her loss, because the pain was too great to live with day by day. Now that she was removed from his past self, Rose felt the loss of the connection her current bond mate was dampening. She needed to feel it, or else nothing he could say would convince her that things were alright. In truth, _he_ needed to feel it. He yearned for this. Its absence had been excruciating.

Drawing an uneven breath, the Doctor let himself open the bond again, just a crack. Just enough that she could feel it – that he could feel it. Even just a touch of its resplendent power was enough to immerse him in life. His parched mind soaked up all he possibly could before focusing outward and channeling the feelings he held for Rose through their connection, letting it crash over her.

Rose gasped a breath and her eyes widened, then became slightly glazed. She'd gotten the impassioned message.

His hand lifted to cover hers. "I'm with you," he responded to her question, his voice low and painfully honest. She wanted the truth and this, in part, was it. "As long as that's the case, I couldn't possibly be anything but okay…regardless of whatever else in the whole of creation might fall apart."

Her hand slipped from his face and instead clasped his fingers, giving a squeeze.

"You saved them, Doctor. As many as you possibly could. Barcelona is safe now," she soothed him, thinking this was the cause for the distress she had sensed in him.

"Yeah," he croaked, but his mind was on thoughts of the damage he had temporarily left in his wake.

Her hand freed itself from his, and both palms moved to slide up the lapels of his jacket, slowly, deliberately, hot flesh searing through pinstriped wool. She pressed forward and stopped only when she was close enough that their bodies brushed with every inhale and exhale. Her hands progressed up his shoulders. Light fingertips tripped up the base of his neck, threaded through his hair and then gave a gentle but insistent tug downward until their lips were in line and a mere breath away from contact.

"And we're okay…both of us. We're here and we're safe and nothing else matters. But I think I know how to really convince you." She pressed her lips to his, her entire body making contact with his own, every soft contour melding to his lean frame.

A noise of anguish pushed its way up his throat but grew to a guttural groan as he instinctively pulled her in tighter, hands clutching her hips. His lips slid over hers, ice meeting fire. Then both opened, tongues twining frantically. He chased her every movement with his lips and tongue – tasting, savoring, devouring and remembering all that she was.

He was desperate for her. Maybe it was a twist of justified irony considering how hard he had once fought against it, but he had physically ached for this level of intimacy since it had been torn from him – since _she_ had been torn from him. Yet even still, he knew this could go no further. They could not carry this through to full connection and release. He could not make love to the ephemeral human woman in his arms. She would be able to perceive _far_ too much of him if they did. If he continued to exert caution, he could control the emotions she was able to sense from him. But he feared he could not hide the full extent of this from her if he allowed them to connect on the deepest level.

With pained reluctance, the Doctor pulled away. Even as he did so, he questioned whether he would have the strength to resist a second time. How he had _ever_ achieved it in the past was a knowledge that now escaped him.

She didn't understand his immediate intentions and thought the pause was only to allow them to move this somewhere more suitable.

"Time for bed, I should think," Rose stated provocatively. She slipped her hands across his shoulders and down his arms until she reached his hands, where she took them in her own. She stepped back and gave a tug for him to follow. When he stayed fixed to the spot, she regarded him with a perplexed expression through the love and lust that was coloring her features.

"Wait. Not…not just yet," he said by way of reply to the unspoken question. "I…had in mind to take you somewhere tonight."

"Oh, that's what I had in mind, too," she intoned seductively. "And I can think of multiple locations if you need suggestions. If the bed's too far, the console's right here, for starters." She nuzzled his neck and grinned dizzily, fingers gravitating back up to sink deep in his hair. "'S not the most comfortable of choices, but that's never stopped us before..."

He swallowed visibly and took a step back. He had to put some distance between them if he was going to have any hope of keeping his desires at bay. His accompanying words came out rapidly, an attempt to distract them both.

"I meant a trip…in the TARDIS. Somewhere away, that is. Somewhere nice. Maybe dinner on an asteroid. Or the Moon. Or floating in deep space – anywhere you could possibly choose or imagine. No limits, Rose. The food was a bit rubbish back on Barcelona, wasn't it? Affairs of pomp and circumstance tend to be that way, I've found. All flair and no flavor. Well, there's _flavor_, but not necessarily of the appealing variety. Not to say the food was repulsive, no. We'd have to be dining on Blechgack for true palate repugnancy. But still, we could find better." He slowed his babbling, the next words coming out much softer. "And…you look lovely in that dress. You should have the chance to enjoy wearing it a bit longer."

He didn't mention that the shimmer it cast distantly reminded him of the dress she had worn when they had exchanged vows. The rising lump in his throat was already bordering on agonizing.

Rose stared back at him, a frown of confusion forming. "_That's_ what you have in mind? You want to…eat. Right _now_?"

"Nourishment is…important," he stated with as casual a shrug as possible.

"Right. Okay, sure. If that's really what you want," she agreed flatly. The look in her eyes wasn't hard to decipher. She was feeling a bit hurt, a bit rejected, and that simply would not do. Not now, during his last night with her. He had caused Rose to feel that way enough times in the past by insisting on keeping distance between them.

"Then after dinner it's only fitting to indulge in…dessert. And I think you'll find what I have in mind to be intensely satisfying," he promised huskily, recalling how their evening on Barcelona had ended the first time around. He knew full well his past self would make good on that promise after she was returned to the proper time. That very memory was among those that helped him keep his sanity on lonely nights…or perhaps cost him a bit more of it.

The confused rejection in Rose's eyes dissipated a touch. It was replaced by surprise. Despite the level of intimacy they'd achieved, he occasionally still struggled with initiating it or being blatant about it if not in the throes of the act. It was a learning curve he'd still been on when he lost her, physical relationships having been all but bred out of his people. Rose, however, had certainly been quite the capable teacher. And she didn't currently seem to mind his flagrant, if uncharacteristic, use of innuendo.

"Well, I suppose a satisfying dessert is always worth the wait," she replied back, eyes forming a definite glint.

"Oh, it will be. That, Rose Tyler, is a promise."

"_But_…," she continued in flirtatious warning, "if you plan to put me through an entire night of foreplay simply to drive me utterly mad, just remember that there _will_ be a price to pay."

"There's always a price to pay," he responded somberly. "And it's quite possible that one of us will be driven mad before this night is through. Maybe one of us already has been." The Doctor recovered himself and forced levity back into his tone. "But first things first! A proper dinner for the lady."

She smiled with acceptance, content to wait for his promises of all that the night would bring. "So then, where did you have in mind for this impressive dinner of yours?"

The Doctor was at a momentary loss in the face of her question. He had not made specific plans because he had not planned _this_. It only required a moment of quick pondering, however, before he had an answer. He wanted to take Rose to the place where they had once grown closer than ever before. A place that held memories he clung to in moments when the solitude became overwhelming. A place he had once promised to return to with her, but due to their abrupt ending never got the chance.

But the Doctor, gazing into her expectant eyes, didn't want to simply tell her what he had in mind. He wanted to show her instead.

He answered with an air of confidence. "Why don't I let it be a surprise, eh? But I'll say this: I think you'll fully approve."

Rose arched a sculpted brow in curiosity but let him keep it a surprise. She always loved the mystery, his Rose.

The TARDIS was still opposed to his actions, her systems sluggish and resistant. But the Doctor managed to pilot her to his intended destination, despite the opposition. With a little more jostling than usual, they arrived at the place which held special significance for them both.

A slow-forming smile crept over his face. "Here we are, then."

Rose looked to the doors, then back to him. She lifted her brows. "Well? You finally gonna tell me where we are?"

He clucked his tongue and smirked at her impatience, feeling more like himself than he had since before Canary Wharf. He could feel that integral part of himself come back to life – the part which drew sheer delight from witnessing the wonders of the universe through another's eyes. He couldn't wait to see that thrill in Rose's eyes that always came with a destination's reveal.

"Oh, come now. Where's the fun in that when you can take a look for yourself?" He indicated the doors, then bound over to the nearby strut which held his long tan coat, snatched it up and shrugged it on. He then gestured to the exit with a grand sweep of his arm. "Rose Tyler, your evening awaits."

A bright grin lit her face. "Somethin' tells me this is gonna be a night to remember."

Her words and the innocent joy which infused them effectively extinguished his own. _I'll remember for both of us, _he silently vowed.

The Doctor followed Rose out of the TARDIS, Time cracking beneath their feet.


	5. Chapter 4

**A/N **I know this has been dripping with angst, but I do promise an eventual light at the end of the tunnel for the Doctor and Rose – which means canon will be, in certain respects, taking a hike.

* * *

**Chapter 4**

When Rose opened the TARDIS' doors to reveal their location, it took her a moment to realize where they were. They appeared to be within a docking port of some sort. A heavy transparent door separated them from the corridor beyond. Upon exiting, an automated male voice instructed them on how to proceed.

"_Greetings, respected guests. For registration purposes, please place an appendage on the lighted blue identification panel to the right of the access door before proceeding."_

Rose looked to the Doctor, and he nodded for her to do as directed. Rose placed her hand on the illuminated blue panel beside the door.

"_Species: human. Please proceed and enjoy your stay."_

The door slid open and Rose stepped through. The Doctor then followed the same procedure.

"_Species: unclassified. Please proceed and enjoy your stay."_

They walked down the narrow white corridor to emerge into a central complex, where countless similar corridors connected to this main hub. The complex itself was suspended at a high altitude within the atmosphere, and the warm fuchsia sky flooded through the glass dome ceiling, painting the airy space in rosy hues. The area was bustling with the activity of arrivals and departures of private crafts. The crowds streaming past consisted of a variety of species, mostly in groups of couples or families. It was a tourist destination, if she guessed correctly. Rose had a definite inkling of where they might be, but sought to confirm.

"Where are we, exactly?" she queried.

The Doctor came to stand beside her, hands in the pockets of his long coat, looking quite pleased with himself. "A place I once promised we'd return to. And this time I did it properly. That is…I followed arrival protocols and even received permission to dock."

She turned to him, voice lilting with a spark of excitement. "Are we back on the planet Paradise?"

He nodded, eyes on hers. "I suppose you could call it a…well, a second…erm…honeymoon. Of sorts." Even as he said it, the words still seemed a bit foreign. He'd never expected to be the type to do this sort of thing once, much less twice. But if this was his last trip with Rose, he could think of nothing more appropriate. "I thought perhaps this would–"

He was cut off by her mouth pressing to his, warm and wet and blissfully distracting. It was only a few seconds lag before his arms found their way around her, his mouth reciprocating the attention of hers.

"You never stop surprising me," she breathed, peppering a series of soft kisses to his lips.

"Or myself," he murmured back.

He was reluctant to let her go when she broke the impromptu embrace. Rose eased back from the circle of his arms and tilted her head toward an overhead speaker, where a pleasant female voice greeted new visitors with a standard message.

"_Welcome to Paradise, Andromeda Galaxy's premier leisure destination. Your current location is Northern Sector Arrival Port number twenty-two. Guests wishing to register for extended stays are asked to board a designated transport shuttle located on the port's eastern side, which will take you to our Guest Services Center for this region. Thank you for choosing to holiday in the arms of Paradise. And please, enjoy your stay."_

Rose looked back to the Doctor. He was expecting her to ask how long he intended to stay, and he wasn't exactly sure how he would answer such a seemingly-simple yet complex query. This was not her question, though; and what she asked left him momentarily fumbling to reply just the same.

"Can we go see Jaise?"

It was irrational and he knew it. It was _beneath_ him. And yet he still felt a zing of jealousy when recalling the man who had once grown close to Rose while spending weeks with her in the Doctor's absence. But his feelings toward the man in question went beyond just this. Tonight was his one last chance to be with Rose, and he had _not_ intended on sharing her company.

The Doctor quickly relegated his own petty reaction. Of course she would want to see him again. Jaise Daax, supervisor of Guest Services, had once helped Rose tremendously and given her a job when she had been, for all intents and purposes, stranded here. At the time, the Doctor had disappeared for weeks thanks to a temporal mix-up. Rose had no explanation for the Doctor's absence during that period, and Jaise had become her friend when she had needed one. Nothing _more_ than a friend. But still, friendships were important. And he could not deny Rose something she so clearly wanted.

The Doctor gave her a warm smile. "Of course we can, if you'd like. That can be our first stop."

Rose grinned, took his hand, and headed in the direction of the specified transport shuttle.

-:-:-:-

It was nearing evening hours on Paradise, the fuchsia sky deepening to a rich magenta hue as the twin suns dipped low on the colorful horizon. The auto-piloted translucent shuttle touched down on the city's main thoroughfare and proceeded to arrive at Serenity District's Guest Services complex, centrally located within the lush city. The Doctor and Rose both exited, regarding their surroundings as they disembarked the craft.

The temperate breeze carried the infused scent of exotic blooms, and the landscape presented an appealing canvas of natural beauty blended with engineered elegance. Vibrant foliage decorated the hilly landscape while buildings comprised of smooth white stone and open porticos lent a feel of classic tranquility. On their first trip, the Doctor had explained to Rose how the people of Rajara had re-populated this place as their new homeworld, their advanced knowledge of engineering turning the uninhabited world into a top leisure destination while preserving the native splendor.

"I'd almost forgotten just how gorgeous it is here," Rose remarked, taking in the white boulevards canopied by colorful flowering trees. The petals radiated a soft, enchanting glimmer at night, and they were just beginning to twinkle as dusk descended.

"Memories are _never_ an adequate substitution for reality," the Doctor answered passionately, eyes burning into hers. He reached for her hand, grounding him to the here and now. "Onwards and upwards! Places to go, people to see," he stated as cheerfully as possible.

Together they approached the central building where a steady flow of guests were entering and exiting. As they crossed inside, he sensed by her quiet demeanor and pensive eyes that the Guest Services complex conjured up mixed feelings for Rose. Her time working here had not been the most pleasant, considering he was absent without word during that time thanks to the trouble with tangled timelines. With that thought, a chill seeped down his spine at the reminder of the current state of the timelines. If he allowed himself to focus on them at all, he could perceive the growing instability of his and Rose's personal timestreams. They were literally a walking paradox. Everywhere they went, the timelines twisted in their wake, the distortions spreading further and further.

The Doctor forced his mind off that troubling fact by focusing on Rose's current thoughts and her possible discomfort from painful recollections. "Are you alright, Rose?"

Rose turned her attention away from the building they had just entered and back to him. "'Course. Why wouldn't I be? We're in _Paradise_."

He shrugged. "True, but…this building in particular may not fit such an idyllic description. I suppose this place doesn't hold the best of memories for you."

"Doctor, my time spent here is not a bad memory," she assured him. "It was tough. Really tough at times. And there were moments when it just...hurt. But everything worked out okay, yeah? More than okay. That's all that really matters in the end. You an' me, together…making it through whatever comes our way."

Oh, her blind faith in _'we'll always be alright'_ was nearly enough to gut him in light of their future. He didn't reply. He couldn't. Instead he gripped her hand a little tighter and attempted a smile, tremulous as it was.

The two walked through the busy, tall glass complex, the glow of twilight washing through the open, welcoming space. They passed the General Information desk and moved further back toward Central Registration.

As they approached, the smile lighting Rose's face indicated her recognition of the man they'd come to see. Jaise Daax was working at his station. A tall, blue-toned reptilian couple had just stepped away after having completed the registration process. He caught sight of the Doctor and Rose as they approached, and his face formed a bright, welcoming smile. Judging by appearances, not much time had passed since seeing him last. He looked exactly the same – age of approximately mid-thirties, a handsome face with an orange-bronze complexion, dark eyes, and close-cut dark hair.

"Rose Tyler!" he greeted with enthusiasm, stepping out from his workstation and moving forward to welcome her.

Smiling, Rose embraced him in a warm hug. "You remember," she remarked happily.

"Of course I do. Of all my human friends, you've always been the most memorable."

She pulled back, still smiling. "I didn't know you had a lot of human friends."

"Only one. That's what makes you memorable," he quipped. Jaise then turned to the Doctor and extended his hand. "Speaking of memorable… It's good to see you again too, Doctor," he said, having put aside his previous misgivings toward the gallivanting Time Lord. Well, for the most part, at least.

"And you," the Doctor greeted cordially.

"I don't know what's more of a surprise," Jaise added. "Seeing the two of you again or seeing that you apparently followed arrival protocols this time. Or…have I spoken too soon? Is your craft perhaps located in the center of the main lobby?" he joked.

Rose chuckled. The Doctor did too, but it was forced. Annoyingly, some just couldn't seem to let go of one little parking incident. "Actually, I'm typically known for impeccable arrivals. Last time was merely a fluke. A one-off. A–"

Rose's chuckle became an interrupting snort of laughter.

"And I see you haven't lost your skill for hyperbole, either," Jaise responded, exchanging a humorous look with Rose.

Grinning, Rose linked her arm through the Doctor's. "Sorry, Doctor. But I'm afraid I once told Jaise about some of your other…impeccable landings."

"Which are the very slight _exception_, not the rule," he tried to clarify in his defense.

Rose laughed again. The Doctor might have felt a touch put out, and definitely not thrilled to be taken down a peg in the presence of the other man, but Rose was laughing – Rose was happy. It was such a contrast from the last time he had seen her, weeping on a desolate beach. So he was simply glad to see her smiling, even if it _was_ at his expense.

"How long will you be staying?" Jaise then asked. "I'd be happy to let you have your previous suite again, but I'm afraid it's presently occupied. However, I do have a few other vacancies in the Serenity District."

Rose looked to the Doctor, then back to Jaise. "Well, we've only just arrived and hadn't really talked about it yet. How long did you have in mind, Doctor?"

He was momentarily stuck on what to say. How long _could_ they possibly stay? He wanted to give Rose as long as she desired. Yet his better judgment told him they'd already stayed far too long. His and Rose's personal timelines – and for that matter every timeline they'd now come in contact with from the point of divergence out – was becoming increasingly unstable. This encounter with Jaise, for instance, wasn't even supposed to have happened. Consequently, this man's own timeline was being affected as well, changing in subtle ways with each second that passed. The cascade effect of something like this was staggering.

Even still, the Doctor believed all should continue to hold together well enough for one night, at least. It wasn't as if he and Rose were going about re-writing every event that had taken place from Barcelona up to Canary Wharf. This was only changing one night – and tomorrow at the most. Yes, all original events would be completely altered, starting from the moment he whisked her away…_if_ they kept going and never turned back. But everything was going to be put back in place soon. So any alterations that were occurring were temporary.

"We…could at least stay the night," the Doctor finally offered. "That is…if you want to, Rose."

"Of course I want to!" she enthused. "Maybe even a bit longer, yeah?"

He swallowed and answered quietly, not quite meeting her eyes. "Yeah."

Jaise was happy to hear they would be staying. "Excellent. I'll book your suite right away." He moved behind his workstation and began inputting information into the 3D screen which appeared suspended before him. A moment later the image glitched, then shut off completely. Jaise frowned. "That's strange. The system was working perfectly moments ago."

The Doctor felt a stab of dread. Chaotic timelines could not only affect the living beings caught up in their path, but mechanical systems as well, disrupted by the substantial fluctuations involved. He hastened to assist in correcting the blip and shoved the possibility for the malfunction out of his mind.

The Doctor moved behind the workstation, brandished the sonic screwdriver and aimed it at the base of the device. In seconds, the hovering screen reappeared. "There we are! Nothing to it. Good as new," he proclaimed, pocketing the sonic.

"Well, thank you. For…whatever it was you did," Jaise offered, looking slightly perplexed. Nevertheless, he completed the data entry, securing their reservation. "There now. All set. I have you registered in suite number ninety-seven within the village of Serenity." He looked up at them. "Now then, if you have just a few minutes more, there's someone I'd like for you both to meet while you're here. Would you excuse me just a moment?"

Rose nodded, and Jaise stepped away into the back office. She turned to the Doctor.

"Thank you for this. _All_ of this." She said the words with such warmth and affection, and for a moment the Doctor forgot that taking this risk to be with Rose again could be wrong. And even if it was, her sheer happiness alone made this worth it still. "I know the whole…honeymoon thing didn't come easily for you the first time. And even now, romantic gestures aren't really…well…your normal thing. So I want you to know it means a lot to me, just the fact that you made the effort."

He blinked. "_Is_ this a romantic gesture?" The Doctor never had fully grasped the nuances of romance within human relationships – especially when it came to being an active participant.

She grinned. "Definitely. You see? You're learning!"

The Doctor half-smiled back. "You're saying there's hope for me yet, eh?" But even as he spoke, he feared whatever he might be learning was too little too late. He shifted his mind off that line of thinking as Jaise re-emerged. For once, the man who normally concerned himself with all facets of Time didn't want to dwell on the past or the future. Only the present.

Jaise came back over to them, and accompanying him was a woman who appeared to be a Rajaran native like himself. She was quite attractive, perhaps a few years younger than him, her smooth bronze tone complimented by long dark hair and deep brown eyes.

"This is Kalissa," he introduced.

The woman smiled. "It's nice to meet you both."

"She's technically the director of Guest Services for the Eastern region," Jaise explained, "but the Serenity District has increasingly become one of the most popular with guests, so she's been assigned to assist with operations here for the time being." He looked at her affectionately. "I would be going insane trying to do this job right now if not for her help and expertise."

It was subtly noticeable that there may be more than a professional relationship between the two. Rose was delighted by the prospect. Jaise had previously shared with her his pain of a past broken relationship and subsequent avoidance of becoming close to anyone since. In parting, Rose had urged him to be willing to open his heart again. Maybe he had taken that advice after all.

"Kalissa, I'm so glad Jaise has you to…assist him," Rose said, a smile lighting her face.

"Thank you. He's spoken of you both. He said you were quite a help to him during the busy season last year as well, Rose."

"Oh, I doubt if I helped him quite as…thoroughly as you," Rose said. It was difficult to tell, but Jaise may have flushed a deeper shade of orange at that remark. "Seeing as how you're much more experienced, bein' a director, and all," she amended, not wanting to make them uncomfortable with such direct insinuations.

"Well, it goes both ways. One never stops acquiring knowledge, and I've learned a great deal from Jaise in working with him," Kalissa responded, casting a fond smile in his direction. "We were just about to get off work and have dinner. Would you two care to join us?" she offered.

"Oh, that'd be nice," Rose replied. "Doctor?"

He hesitated. She had said hello to Jaise. Wasn't that adequate? He did not want to give up any more of the precious little time they had together by dividing it amongst the company of others. His Time Sense was also growing increasingly ill at ease. They weren't mean to be here – not according to established events. And every interaction they had with others just caused the threads of Time to unravel that little bit more.

Rose wanted this, though. How could he deny her whatever small bit of happiness he could allow? Inevitably, the Doctor nodded in agreement. Rose smiled back.

"We'd love to," Rose accepted.

"Excellent!" said Jaise. "If you'll give us just a few minutes, we'll wrap things up here and turn operations over to the next shift."

Jaise and Kalissa returned to their work stations momentarily. Rose watched the two fondly.

The Doctor noted the way she observed them, and he questioned her. "What was all the sly grinning for?" Not only was he generally curious, but he wanted to understand every facet of Rose's nature while he still could.

"They're a couple," she quietly pronounced, nodding toward the two with another smile.

The Doctor regarded the pair with a quizzical gaze. "What makes you think so?"

She rolled her eyes. He was a man _and_ a formerly sexually-repressed alien. Thus, he was a bit thick when it came to such matters. "It's obvious. The way they act around each other, the subtle glances, their tone when talking about the other, _and_ the fact that they had a date planned for tonight."

He shrugged "Mutual nourishment. Not necessarily with amorous intentions."

Rose turned her full attention toward him. "So, you're the expert on…amorous intentions, are you?" she teased, but with a definite sultry glint in her eye.

The Doctor knew he should not be flirting back in a cavalier manner as if Time itself was not currently in jeopardy. And flirtatious overtures could lead no further anyway because he could not even be with her intimately, for Rassilon's sake. Rose would see far too much of him if he surrendered that much restraint. And yet, he couldn't seem to tame the impulsive flirting. She'd long since had a way of arousing that side of him.

"_Well_… Perhaps before I can claim that coveted title I might need a few more…demonstrative lessons on the subject," the Doctor husked back, voice low and eyes intense.

Rose moved in closer and fingered his tie. "Oh, I think that can most definitely be arranged. We can engage in an in-depth study session over the course of…dessert. You might even earn a gold star if you're very, _very_ good…"

The Doctor's pulse rate accelerated. _This_ was why he should have stepped back, not further in. Time wasn't the only thing destabilizing. His control was cracking at the seams. Making it through this night with his restraint intact might prove to be the greatest challenge in this entire situation. And even if he managed, what would Rose think if he attempted to maintain barriers between them – on a trip which he impulsively proclaimed to be a second honeymoon, no less?

The complications were mounting. But he had a troubled feeling in the pit of his stomach that these issues were only the beginning.

-:-:-:-

Within Barcelona's Defense Headquarters, the Doctor was engrossed in work. What should have been an easy fix for their newly-integrated shielding system was becoming more and more problematic to resolve. He was beginning to wonder if he _could_ resolve it. This was not simply a mechanical issue. The problem stemmed from a disturbance in the temporal fabric surrounding this place. He knew the time-altering technology used by the attacking Sontarans had caused temporal eddies that resulted in energy fluctuations throughout the region. That should have resolved itself by now, however. Instead, it seemed to have gotten worse.

This didn't make sense. He had felt the disturbance the temporal eddies had caused. It was unpleasant but not intolerable. This growing unease, however, was much stronger – much more unnerving, and disproportionate to what would be expected. Something more was going on here, and he was determined to uncover whatever it was.

Having become preoccupied with this matter, the Doctor had not been able to return to Rose and rejoin her in the celebrations as he had promised. The festivities would continue long into the night and Rose would have plenty in which to occupy herself. But if he knew Rose Tyler at all, then he knew she would want to help him with this growing issue. He also needed the assistance right about now. Rose had an uncanny way of seeing things in a different light, from a different perspective; and she often spotted things that otherwise eluded him.

Not only did he need her help but he needed her presence. At the moment, he could not even feel their bond as strongly due to his senses being thrown off by whatever was occurring here. This left him with an unsettling emptiness.

While the Doctor continued his attempts to bring the defense systems back online, he made a request of one of the assistant engineers. He turned to the young Barcelonan man who had just brought him additional data on the current energy fluctuations.

"Tell you what, Gabino my friend… It is Gabino, Right?" the Doctor spoke as he scanned over the data readout.

"Gabrio, sir" the young man responded.

"Gabrio, right. I'm going to need some more help with this. Would you have word sent to the Regal Manor for Rose Tyler? She's there in attendance. Ask her to join me here."

The man nodded. "Of course. I'll see that she comes here directly."

"Brilliant. Thank you."

The Doctor removed his glasses and rubbed his eyes. He blew out a long breath and focused back on the data at hand. At least with Rose on her way to join him, there would soon be _one_ improvement to this disconcerting situation.


	6. Chapter 5

**A/N** Rose decides to push the limits of the Doctor's restraint, though the chapter is not explicit as this is the slightly edited version.

* * *

**Chapter 5**

In a past timestream a galaxy away, the Doctor was growing more and more distressed. Despite his continued efforts, he was no closer to fixing the malfunctioning security system or pinpointing the reason for the temporal instability. Instead, he seemed to be losing ground, the situation worsening. Whatever was causing such a substantial temporal disturbance seemed to be escalating. It was increasingly affecting him as well. His Time Sense was in disarray, leaving him feeling muddled inside and out. He'd all but given up on even trying to fix the security system until he could first decipher what was behind this occurrence.

For that, it was becoming apparent that he would need better suited technology than the Barcelonans had available. He was going to have to investigate further from within the TARDIS. But he didn't want to depart for the ship until Rose arrived, since she was on her way to join him here. Or at least, she was _supposed_ to be on her way. It had been over an hour since he'd sent word. That was more than enough time for her to have been here by now.

The Doctor soon spotted the man who was supposed to have sent a message to Rose, and he made his way over to the young assistant engineer to question as to her delayed arrival.

"Gabrio?"

The man looked up from his data monitor and quirked a smile. "You are correct on the first try this time."

"Hmm? Oh, yes…well. I have my moments. Often, in fact. Now, can you tell me where Rose is?"

The man's face formed a frown of confusion. "Is she not with you?"

The Doctor shook his head. "No, she still hasn't arrived. You did send word for her, didn't you?"

"Of course. I made it a point to go to the Regal Manor myself to deliver your message. But I was told that she had already left the banquet – with you. So I just assumed that you had–"

"With _me_?" the Doctor interrupted, voice incredulous. "I haven't returned to the banquet since I was called away. I've been here ever since. Who told you this?"

"Several confirmed it, actually. When I asked about her, a group nearby overheard the query and said that the two of you had already left. They said you were both seen slipping out rather quickly through the rear exit of the Manor. A few even called out, thinking you were leaving permanently and wanted to thank you both one last time. But they said you kept going and didn't stop. I explained that you were no doubt in a hurry to get back here. But…I don't understand. If she didn't leave with you, then…who?"

The Doctor barely caught the last of the words. His hearts were thundering so loudly in his chest that he could hear little else.

-:-:-:-

Dinner in Paradise could have been said to be a pleasant affair, had the Doctor had not been carrying the weight of this illicit stolen trip and the ever-present awareness of unraveling threads of Time. Nevertheless, he was determined to at least _try_ to enjoy the evening while he could.

The two couples dined at Paradise's Hidden Oasis restaurant, located off the azure coast of the Northern Sea. Or rather, _within_ the sea. The translucent dining structure was built beneath the water, providing a unique sub-aquatic experience. Patrons entered by way of an aboveground portal which led to a descending clear tunnel, the passageway offering an up-close view of the ocean as the slope dipped and carried them below the surface.

Once inside the restaurant itself, soft lighting which rimmed the outer transparent structure illuminated the surrounding water, so that even at a substantial depth, the aquatic scape and sea life could be observed.

The four were seated directly alongside the outer perimeter, and thus had a prime view. The tables throughout the dining space were decorated in the simple elegance of seafoam-blue cloth, atop which were scattered flickering candles contained within bubble-shaped etched-glass bowls of assorted sizes. In the background, an acoustic system captured and transmitted the soft, mystic sounds of Paradise's unique melodic marine life, which imbued the oceanic atmosphere.

"Our first memorable dinner here was _on_ _top_ of the water; now it's below," Rose murmured to the Doctor as they took their seats.

He merely cast a faint smile, recalling the tender memory with a bittersweet pang in his chest.

Their orders were taken promptly, and the native couple suggested the restaurant's herb-crusted and seared Paradise Snapper, which was served with a medley of fresh in-season vegetables, roasted and drizzled with pungent herb-infused oil. All four agreed on this house specialty, accompanied by a bottle of Rajaran white wine, dry and fruity.

After being served their meal, the small group delved into conversation. Jaise and Kalissa's affections toward each other became more obvious during the intimate dinner, so Rose gathered that they wouldn't mind if it was remarked upon. Plus she was eager to confirm her assumption. This was such a positive step for her friend considering his previous cynical attitude toward relationships.

"So…how long have the two of you been seeing each other?" Rose finally put forth.

"About two months," Kalissa openly offered. "Well, technically three, but Jaise played it coy and wouldn't admit his true intentions at first," she teased him. "But it eventually reached the point of becoming obvious. Inviting me on leisure activities in our spare time, conversations that tended on the personal side, quiet dinners… I finally just came out and asked him if he gave all his coworkers such _personal_ attention."

Jaise cleared his throat. "Yes…well. There is something to be said for the slow and rational approach."

His companion grinned impishly. "Thankfully he snapped out of _that_."

The two women both chuckled. He cracked a smile then, and seemed to become at ease with the subject. Rose was genuinely glad he had taken another chance on happiness. She had hoped for as much the last time they parted.

From there, the two Rajarans spoke of some of the happenings and highlights on the planet in recent months. Rose in turn shared details of the travels and adventures she and the Doctor had experienced since being here last.

The Doctor interjected into the conversation here and there, and from the outside might have seemed perfectly normal – for anyone who didn't know him better, at least. It was certainly clear to Rose that something was still off. He was not babbling a mile a minute or dominating the conversation with his superior knowledge of every topic. He was, one might say, rather quiet overall. Such demeanor did not fit the usual description for the typically-effervescent Time Lord beside her.

Rose cast him occasional questioning glances, but he simply returned them with a superficial smile. She even attempted to focus on their link for clues to his emotional state, but without being physically in contact it was always more difficult for her to directly decipher his feelings. She reached for his hand at one point to do just that, but he simply returned the gesture with a brief squeeze, then released her hand.

By the time the meal was nearly over, Rose herself had become less engaged, focused on pondering what the Doctor's issue might be and why he seemed to be shielding her from it. She hadn't even realized she'd drained a third glass of wine until Jaise made a jesting remark, saying she apparently thought the evening needed to be lived up and was taking the initiative.

It was then Kalissa made a suggestion to the group. "I think I have a perfect idea for how to liven up the evening. Why don't we all go for a swim? It's something Jaise and I like to do sometimes after work. It's relaxing and invigorating at once. Feels divine at night this time of the season, too. Plus, the pools near Serenity's guest village are gorgeous at night."

"They're gorgeous day _or_ night," Rose recalled. She also recalled a previous passionate encounter with the Doctor in those very waters. It had, however, ended in a rather heated argument. Ironically, over the issue of him closing himself off from her. But even still, the memory of what had occurred _before_ the argument had not lost its ability to send a ripple of desire down her spine. Maybe the arousing experience would also be just the thing to snap the Doctor out of this impenetrable mood that seemed to have come over him. "I'm all for giving it a go. What'd you say, Doctor?"

He forced a tight smile. "If you'd like."

Dinner ended shortly thereafter, and throughout the remainder, the Doctor had grown increasingly wary of not only how much longer he could keep all this up, but how much longer he could keep this from Rose. One thing she clearly hated was when he held back from her. And if the glances she'd given him over dinner were an indication, she knew he was currently doing just that. But it was increasingly difficult for him to carry on as if everything was alright when the opposite was true.

It wasn't until they all stood from the table to leave that the Doctor was gripped by just how serious this was becoming. He froze, rooted to the spot, staring at Rose as she moved ahead of him. If seen through his eyes, one would have perceived the air itself momentarily twisting and distorting around her. Out of sheer necessity, he finally forced himself to do what he had steadfastly been avoiding. He focused on her timeline.

It was in chaos.

If she were a being of Time and could sense such things, it no doubt would have left her tremendously queasy. It certainly did him, just viewing it. The muddled lines and disordered flow were dizzying; threads that had once been secure and smooth now twisting and tangling unnaturally. And it wasn't just Rose, he realized. It now seemed to be affecting everyone in this disarrayed proximity.

To the right, to the left – he whipped his head around to observe the various people nearby, all engulfed in the same jumbled mess. It was a risk even staying in this place much longer for fear that the pressurized containment system might malfunction around them. The paradox was expanding with every path they crossed, every step they took which was not meant to be. The Doctor would have felt his own timeline tousled about just as severely if he were closer to the point in time when Rose had been improperly removed from him in the past. His prior self would be the first and most keenly affected, established threads of his life beginning to fray at that point of divergence, until it trickled down the line to his future. For his current self it was, quite literally, only a matter of time.

"Doctor, are you alright?"

At the sound of Rose's voice, he pulled his attention back to a superficial level, snapping out of his acute focus on elements most were not capable of perceiving. All three were now staring at him. They had already taken several steps away, but looked back when they realized he was still standing by the table and had not moved.

Rose walked back over to him. "Doctor, what's wrong?"

He blinked rapidly a few times, then smiled crookedly. "I…I'm fine. Sorry."

Rose moved in closer and spoke quietly, gazing into his eyes with concern. "Hey…what is it? What has you so distracted tonight?"

He strengthened his mental shields and buried his tumultuous emotions behind them as he reached out for her hand and gave it a squeeze.

"Oh, a question like that could warrant a _very_ lengthy reply. There are untold millions of things throughout the universe vying for my attention and capable of distracting me at any one moment. But to name them all would never get us out of this restaurant within the century. So…swimming, eh? Well then, no time like the present!"

The Doctor ushered her along to join the others. He was determined not to let anything ruin this one night, resolute in his attempt to stay a step ahead of the mounting consequences.

-:-:-:-

The pool near Paradise's guest village was every bit as breathtaking as Rose remembered. It wasn't actually a single large pool, but rather a series of elaborate waterscapes of different sizes and tiers, tiny islands, lush tropical foliage, winding rivers and spilling falls. Throughout, the clear water glistened atop a floor of smooth white pebbles, the native stones also bordering the flowing curves of the water's edges. At night, the surface shimmered as soft lighting emitted a glow from deep beneath.

It was as popular a tourist destination by night as it was by day. Guests of various species were enjoying the water as well as the relaxed atmosphere poolside. The expansive aquatic space, however, offered plenty of room to lounge privately if one so wished. For those seeking a livelier atmosphere, several refreshment cabanas lit by teak torches were popular gathering spots to mix and mingle.

The pleasurable atmosphere was an enjoyable diversion from Rose's focus of fretting over the Doctor's mercurial attitude.

Upon arriving, Jaise and the Doctor stepped into a nearby changing hut to prepare for their twilight swim, and Rose and Kalissa did the same, slipping into an adjacent outbuilding.

Rose recalled the Doctor's selection of pinstriped trunks the last time, and with a small grin, wondered if he would again choose the same. Even though several months had passed since crossing that once seemingly-insurmountable boundary of intimacy, it was still something of a novelty for her to see the Doctor scantily clad, minus the customary layers. And despite now being privileged to such a view behind closed doors, shedding his armor was not something he normally did publicly. She was rather looking forward to this rarity.

Focusing back on the matter of her own swimwear, Rose perused the various options available for the choosing from the interactive wardrobe system located within each of the hut's cubicles. She was still browsing through the choices when Kalissa emerged from her own stall, having already changed. At first glance Rose thought the Rajaran was wearing nothing at all, but a closer look revealed that the strategic pieces of swimwear were the exact golden-bronze tone of her skin.

"Tryin' to get someone's attention?" Rose asked with a cheeky grin.

Kalissa sported a bemused expression. "What do you mean?"

"Your _swimsuit_. It just looks a bit…nonexistent."

The woman chuckled. "Perhaps to some. But this is a common look for Rajarans, blending rather than contrasting our tones. Although…quite a few visitors here choose not to cover themselves at all. It's certainly an option," she finished with a shrug. Residents of a universally-popular leisure planet were quite accustomed to varying cultural norms.

"Yeah, I remember that option," Rose responded, blushing as she recalled entertaining the notion of swimming nude when here previously, just to test the Doctor's reaction. During the time, he had still been struggling with open intimacy, and she had wondered if the bold, unexpected move would have given him a needed shove in the right direction.

"Well, you'll find you're free to choose whatever you wish," Kalissa said with a nod to the interactive monitor. "Any custom is acceptable. See you poolside." With a smile, she stepped out of the hut.

Rose turned back to the selections before her, still pondering the conversation as she made a choice and began to change. It wasn't so unusual, she supposed. Many Earth beaches were clothing-optional, too. And she'd already spotted several guests at the pool who wore no outer covering, she realized, recalling a rather…furry group. It certainly hadn't seemed scandalous. It was just their natural appearance.

It dawned on Rose exactly where she was going with this line of reasoning. She was gathering her nerve to finally find out what the Doctor's reaction would be if she were to step out to swim…au naturel.

He was acting more and more distant – preoccupied. Something was clearly bothering him, she could tell. Yet Rose had come to learn that, highly frustrating as it may be, the Doctor was not the kind of man you could push to open up if he wasn't willing. Sometimes attempting it just made him retreat further. He was a highly complex being, and having a close relationship with him didn't always come easily. Rose knew he carried an inordinate amount of burdens, and he didn't want the same for her. But still, considering the recent progress they'd made, she believed he'd come to her with whatever it was when he was ready, if it continued to trouble him. In the meantime, maybe she simply needed to help him loosen up.

If this was still about the hostile clash on Barcelona, then she just needed to get his mind off such unpleasant things. He admitted to being frequently plagued by distractions. Maybe tonight he just needed a distraction of an altogether different sort. This certainly fit the bill.

Rose had settled on a dark red bikini, and having already slipped on the bottom half, she now bravely decided to forgo the top. She didn't want to push it by going all the way and fully disrobing, and she had a feeling this would be more than adequate to get a certain preoccupied Time Lord's attention.

Rose bit her lip in hesitation as she appraised herself in the mirror. She felt a hot flush of self-conscious embarrassment at the thought of stepping out there, topless, in front of a crowd. Including her friend Jaise. Although she knew he would be more than distracted by his own companion. Plus, he'd seen it all when it came to the cultures of other species, and he likely would give it no more thought than Kalissa had. The same no doubt went for the majority of intergalactic tourists outside.

The only one who would be paying close attention would be the Doctor. But even though this had the potential to capture his focus and snap him out of whatever funk he was in, it also had the dangerous potential to backfire. Deny it as he might, he tended to have a bit of a jealous streak, and this little public exploit might serve to further rile his mood.

There was really only one way to find out for sure. Maybe it was the wine she'd had during dinner that was catching up to her, responsible for making her feel a little heated and more daring than usual. Or maybe she'd always secretly fantasized of shaking him up a bit. Either way, she was throwing caution (and her bikini top) to the wind and seeing what would happen.

Drawing a deep, courageous breath, a half-unclothed Rose emerged from the privacy of the hut and stepped outside.

The open breeze caressed her in places open breezes typically did _not_, and she had to fight the urge to cross her arms over her chest and cover herself the instant she moved into public view. She'd been right, though. No one around seemed to be paying her particular notice.

No one, that was, until she caught the Doctor's eye. He'd just emerged from changing his own clothes, and now wore a simple, dark blue pair of trunks. She was certain it would have been a sight to admire. Her focus, however, was not on his attire. She couldn't take her eyes off his face.

His magnetic gaze met hers from a few feet away. A beat later, he inevitably swept her body to take in her full appearance. His eyes widened and jaw went noticeably tight, muscles tensing as he swallowed visibly. His blown pupils were fastened to her exposed skin. His entire countenance immediately darkened with…desire? Fury? She wasn't entirely sure if it was due to arousal or anger, but if she were a betting woman her money would have been on both.

The way he stormed over to her in a few thundering strides, however, suggested anger might be winning out. Regardless, she certainly seemed to have succeeded in gaining his full attention.


	7. Chapter 6

**A/N **Rose continues to push, and the Doctor continues to fall. This is the slightly toned-down T-rated version of the chapter. The unedited Adult version is posted on Teaspoon, the link to which can be found on my profile page.

* * *

**Chapter 6**

The Doctor had just changed out of his pinstriped suit and into the pair of swim trunks that he'd absently chosen from the available options. Blue. Brown was still his standard staple, but he had lately found himself gravitating toward the other color as well. Maybe because it matched his mood. Or maybe because it matched the TARDIS – the only thing he truly had left. But regardless of how appropriate the color might be, the Doctor wasn't entirely comfortable in it at present. The discomfort wasn't due to the shade but the garment itself – what little there was of it.

As a rule, Time Lords did not have a penchant for showing skin, traditionally draped as they were from head to foot in heavy, concealing robes. He'd always been on the fringe when it came to the conventions of his people, but not in this particular case. The Doctor was much more comfortable with at least a few protective layers between himself and the universe at large. Rose had become the only one he shed his armor for. But he supposed that was still the case even in this situation. She wanted to swim and, by Rassilon, he was going to give her this one thing, even though it meant venturing outside of his wardrobe comfort zone.

Once properly, if not scantily, attired, the Doctor emerged from the changing hut. He noted that Jaise and Kalissa had already changed and were in the water nearby, playfully challenging each other to a round of endurance laps. The two seemed completely absorbed in each other. He wondered what it would feel like to experience such a carefree existence. He wondered if he had _ever_ truly known.

The Doctor was starting to spiral into grim thoughts again, but then Rose stepped outside and came into view, effectively silencing all other thoughts in his head save one.

She was _naked_.

Well, very nearly. Not that he was able to form a single complaint about the spectacular view, but it was _not_ a view to be admired by anyone else. In an instant, he became acutely aware of the entire number of males in the immediate vicinity. _Far_ too many.

He was compelled to cast his eyes about and ensure that no one else was ogling the alluring display Rose presented. But instinctive compulsion won out, and he found himself unable to tear his eyes away from her exposed body which commanded attention. Commanded _anyone_ and _everyone's_ attention. Fierce possessiveness swamped through him.

Had she lost her mind?! Or was she trying to make him lose _his_? The Doctor strode quickly over to Rose, hearts thudding.

"Rose!" he hissed, taking her by the shoulders and rapidly looking for somewhere to duck her out of sight. Quickly, he maneuvered them behind a nearby tall, purple-leafed ornamental shrub. His jaw was so tight he could hardly work it to speak. "What in the name of Time are you doing?!"

Rose shrugged out of his grasp. She was attempting to appear nonchalant but he could tell she was heartily blushing, the pink stain creeping down her neck and across her… No! He had to focus.

"'M goin' for a swim. That's what we're here for, isn't it?"

"You're naked!" he hotly protested, voice hushed lest he draw more attention.

She met his thunderous eyes with a cheeky smirk. "Well…not _entirely_. I've still got half a bikini on. Now _this_ would be naked…" Her fingers moved to her hips, toying with the top edge of the red bikini bottoms as if she might remove those as well.

He quickly snatched up both her wrists in his grasp. "Rose, what has gotten in to you?"

All pretense of games slipped from her face. Her eyes sobered as she gazed back at him. "I thought maybe this would…get your attention. You've become more distant since we left Barcelona. This trip was your idea. But now… 's like you can hardly even focus on it. So I thought maybe I should take your mind off whatever's bothering you. And…well…gotta admit, this seems to be working."

He dropped her hands and his own moved up to grip her shoulders, trembling fingers digging into her soft flesh. She thought he was seizing her out of anger, he could tell. She let out a breath of surprise when he pulled her forward and crushed her to him in an embrace that never wanted to end. He buried his face in the warm crook of her neck, words muffled but impassioned.

"Oh, Rose. Rose, Rose. You _always_ have my attention…my every thought…my entire being consumed until there's little else left." He pulled back enough to look into her eyes, and he knew his own must look a little wild. "I can't _breathe_ without thinking of you." His eyes swept down her body again, because he couldn't _not_ look. She was human perfection. And she had once been his. He swallowed painfully. "You have _too_ _much_ of my attention. You…you drive me _insane_. You really have no idea. No idea at all…"

Her eyes were wide, vulnerable, aroused. "Oh, I think I do. And I'm glad it's mutual. S'pose maybe we're both a little crazy," she uttered, a breathless laugh escaping her. Rose pressed forward, bare chest tantalizingly grazing his as she spoke across his lips. "So…how 'bout that swim? Seeing as how we're dressed for the part, an' all…"

He laughed incredulously, voice raspy. "_Dressed_?" The Doctor leaned back, half dazed, and licked his lips. "This is _not_ dressed. Rose, you're…"

"Topless?" she supplied innocently. As innocent as one could be in said condition. Rose lifted her hand and drew a single finger from the base of her neck down the center of her sternum, her nude skin glowing in the flickering light of nearby torches. The Doctor felt his entire body burn in response. He wondered if a Time Lord had ever spontaneously regenerated under such conditions. "But this is a clothing-optional planet, remember? When in Rome, and all that…"

She gave him a sinful half grin and turned back toward the pool area, stepping out from behind the cover of the shrubbery.

He quickly strode up beside her and took her arm, turning her back to him and away from peering eyes. "But everyone can see!" he whispered hoarsely. "Everyone might _look_!"

"Everyone being men?" she questioned with a quirk of her wicked lips. "You really _are_ a prude, aren't you?" she remarked, repeating the title she'd once given him another time he'd shown hesitation to strip down and swim.

"Right. Yes. Fine. I am," he swiftly agreed. Anything to stop this madness which was sure to be the death of him, on top of everything else. "Prude, that's me. Ancient and set in my ways. So you'll just have to humor me, I'm afraid."

"_Or_…," Rose suggested, angling around him and pressing her back to his front as she took his hands and slid them up her ribcage, "…maybe you'll just have to cover me." She fit his cupped hands over her to do just that.

He drew a quaking breath as his fingers reflexively squeezed. She arched into his touch and moaned, then swiftly turned in his arms and latched onto his mouth with yearning lips.

The kiss was ravenous, and nothing about this situation was fit for such open display. Rose seemed to agree, at least to a point, walking them to the pool's edge and the semi-privacy that submersion in water would afford.

Without breaking from his embrace, she leveraged her body and toppled them over the edge and into the water with a combined splash.

They surfaced together, Rose swallowing down a gulp of water and taking in a lungful of air. She barely had time to inhale before he was on her again. He needed her and was spiraling past the point of being able to stop. This wasn't just lust or arousal. It went far beyond that. This was desperation.

The Doctor shut out everything in his mind other than _this_, right here, right now. The succulent taste of Rose's wet lips, the silken glide of her tongue, the electric press of her soft warm body into his – he didn't allow a single element to escape his awareness, capturing and immortalizing each one in sacred memory. He was lost to every detail. Her burning tongue gliding over the roof of his mouth, the light caress to this sensitive zone sending tremors through his body; her wet hands down his bare back, nails dragging across damp flesh, the tracks of fire setting him ablaze; the sounds she made deep in her throat, soft sighs and low moans which his own voice emulated – he savored it all and hungered for more.

It was a marvel that he was even distantly aware of swimmers drawing near. Rose seemed to notice, pulling back a trace and looking in that direction, flushed. He shot his eyes over the same path to see Jaise and Kalissa who had just ended their laps. Jaise was looking their way, smirking. If possible, the Doctor drew Rose more tightly against him to protect her modesty. His breath hitched in the process, and the look Rose gave him was positively criminal as she pressed her body into his more firmly.

"Remember, your suite is number ninety-seven," Jaise helpfully reminded them, the sound of his voice whipping both their heads back in that direction. "Just thought I'd mention it in case you need to recall that information soon." The other two then swam away, suppressing a snicker.

Rose looked back to the Doctor, eyes shimmering and glazed, water droplets sluicing down her skin. She made his indrawn breath catch in his throat. "We probably _should_ take this someplace a little more…private. Don't you think?"

The Doctor's internal conflict was agonizing. How could he _possibly_ let this go any further without his dark, inner secrets being revealed? Yet how could he possibly just end it here?

"Rose Marion Tyler," he groaned into the skin of her neck as his head dropped forward. "You're going to be the death of me, you realize."

"Oh, I had something _much_ more pleasant in mind," she intoned seductively.

He shook his head ruefully, though couldn't prevent a wan smile from forming. "What am I going to do with you?"

She moved her face to the side of his, and blew across his ear before whispering in it. "You're such a clever, clever man. I'm sure you'll think of one or two very brilliant ideas."

There was no taming Rose on a night like this. Barcelona was still hot in her blood, the Rajaran wine buzzing through her system, and arousal igniting every particle of her being.

Maintaining his secure hold of her, the Doctor strode to the water's edge, climbed up the nearest steps and carried her toward the changing hut where he'd left his suit. They passed a man, human, cutting his eyes over, no doubt trying to get a better view of Rose. The Doctor shot him a warning look, pulling her closer.

She hummed, wrapping her wet limbs more tightly around him. "Don't think you've ever carried me before. Some might think you're becoming…romantic," she purred into his shoulder.

"Never had to hide your naked body from public display before," he replied back, voice low. "Some might think you're becoming licentious."

He felt her lips form a smile against his skin. "If I am it's your fault."

He answered with a noise that was startlingly similar to a primitive growl. The Doctor focused his eyes ahead, reminding his brain where he was headed. Her heated chest brushed his own with each step he took, dragging up and gliding down, over and over. This was getting unbearable. Thank Rassilon they were nearly there.

He reached the hut, stepped into the private cubicle and sat Rose on her feet. She slid down his body on the way to the ground, making sure to contact as much of him as possible in the process. She then started to turn away. He caught her with a hand on her hip, turning her back.

He arched a brow. "Going somewhere?"

She nearly killed him with her sensual pose as she lifted her arms over her head to run her fingers through her wet hair, giving it a slow shake. "Well, _someone_ told me I was underdressed. So I best go back and get my frock. You remember. The little shimmery red number?"

He shook his head, voice commanding. "No."

She raised a questioning brow.

Having already retrieved his own clothes, the Doctor shucked his trunks and stepped into his trousers, forgoing underpants in exchange for speed. He noted how her eyes dropped to boldly take in the sight of her impressive effect on him before he gingerly zipped up. He pulled on his trainers, only half laced. Straightening up, he then took his white Oxford and, rather than put it on, slipped it around her shoulders instead, encouraging her to thread her arms through.

"The TARDIS can replicate the dress a dozen times over if you'd like. This will do for now."

He buttoned the shirt, finally covering her bare torso but unable to stop his fingers from grazing her flesh with each progression to the next button.

"Not even letting me go back for my dress, eh? Someone's in a hurry," she commented with a saucy grin.

Without another word, he grabbed his jacket and bunched it under his left arm, took Rose's hand with his right and led her swiftly from the hut and away from the pool.

This was when he should have made straight for the TARDIS. Enough was enough and this had to end. He knew that. Knowing it, however, didn't change the fact that he chose the lighted path which led toward the guest village instead. A frightening question arose in his mind. If he couldn't turn back now, could he ever?

-:-:-:-

Within Barcelona's Defense Headquarters, the news the Doctor had received churned in his mind like the whirling of a storm.

'_I was told that she had already left the banquet – with you.'_

The Doctor forced his mind off the alarming possibilities and roused himself to action.

"I've got to go find her," he stated brusquely, already propelling himself away.

The assistant engineer stood and followed after him, voice concerned. "Is everything alright? Do you need some help?"

The Doctor stopped long enough to turn back and reply. He wasn't yet certain what he was dealing with. Not entirely. So he was unsure as to what sort of help he might even need. It was very possible, however, that this situation was beyond that of outside assistance. "No. Not just yet. But if Rose turns up here just…have her wait for me."

"Of course."

The Doctor was moving again, heading straight for the nearest exit.

Once outside, he took in several long, deep breaths of the warm night air in an attempt to clear his mind. It was becoming difficult to even focus due to the growing temporal distortions surrounding him. Gathering as much concentration as possible, he first focused on his link with Rose.

It was still intact, but Rose was either too far to transmit through their bond or the temporal fluctuations were hampering his efforts. The Doctor's Time Sense was becoming overloaded. Flowing streams of Time were turning to tempestuous whirlpools around him – _within_ him. He was trying not to let his already-troubled mind be carried away by the report he had received until he knew for certain what was really happening here.

Whatever was responsible for all this, he had to stop it, and soon. Maybe his personal priorities were clouding his judgment, but everything within him said that finding Rose was the key to putting all this right.

There was only one way to proceed from here. He had to get to the TARDIS. Immediately.

The Doctor reached the dark stone street, nearly empty this time of night, and broke into a sprint as he set a determined path toward the direction of his ship, his respiratory bypass and long, agile legs aiding his swift trek. He reduced his pace as he neared the darkened alley a few blocks away where the TARDIS had been left.

The Doctor's steps slowed to a stop as he rounded the corner to reach his ship, only to find it was not there. He quickly surveyed the surrounding area, trying to determine if this was the right place. Alleys, after all, tended to look similar. But he was _not_ one to absently forget where he had left her. This was the correct place. He knew that. But there was no TARDIS.

The Doctor concentrated on trying to feel his ship, but just like when trying to focus on his link to Rose, his senses were in a state of disarray. But this was not the only reason he was unable to sense them, he realized with sickening certainty. Neither his bond mate nor his ship was here. They were no longer on this planet.

A feeling of dreadful panic swelled up within him; not because he was uncertain as to what might have become of them, but because every shred of evidence was pointing to the answer. The disturbance in Time wasn't affecting him secondarily. It was affecting him specifically.

The Doctor stared at the empty place where the TARDIS should have been, a sense of horror overtaking him. Defeating this would likely mean taking on his greatest adversary of all.

"What have I done?"

-:-:-:-

Rose moved with the Doctor quickly and determinedly through the guest village, dotted with smooth white stone cottages. They reached their designated private suite, ascended the two stone steps up to the front portico and stepped inside.

Hints of light from the glowing city seeped through the tall glass windows throughout the small open space. It was nearly an exact replica of the suite where they had lodged on their first visit here, but with subtle changes in the color scheme. Instead of a burgundy and cream colored palate throughout, blues and golds swathed the sumptuous lounges and plush rug in the front sitting room, the rich hues continuing on into the bedroom.

Neither, however, were paying attention to the surrounding décor.

Rose turned to face the Doctor and took him by both hands. She tugged him forward as she walked backwards, remembering the general route to the bedroom and finding it with ease, her eyes never leaving his. He followed without protest, neither stopping until they were within the dimly-lit room.

His eyes absorbed the sight of Rose – hair damp, face flushed, and body provocatively draped in his clothing, the red bikini bottoms peeking through beneath the white cloth that barely covered her hips. She was extraordinary. He had never _craved_ baser physical desires until her. He had never known that such desires could be the exact _opposite_ of primitive and tawdry. For many it was nothing more than animalistic lust, yes. But not for them. It was much weightier. Much more dangerous. It held him captive and exposed his soul.

This was the cause of his current impasse; why tonight could go no further.

But then Rose was in his arms again, soft and exquisite and burning him every place her lips touched – his jaw, neck, shoulders, chest – she was the spark and he was the dry kindling, going up in flames. He wanted her to scorch more of him. All of him – to burn away his pain and guilt and despair until there was nothing left but this, her, _them_.

His fingers craved her skin, yet it was a battle of inner conflict. The more he allowed the less control he would have. That was always his quandary. His weakness.

Rose sensed his hesitation as his hands drifted toward the buttons of the shirt she wore, fingers restlessly tripping along the fabric. She thought he was toying with her. She played him right back.

"Someone didn't think I should be…exposed. So I s'pose we best just leave this on, don't you think?" she teased luridly, one finger swirling around a middle button.

He knew he shouldn't encourage this further, but it was as if he couldn't stop. It was like a sickness. Maybe Rose wasn't the only one who was a little bit intoxicated tonight.

"Never said I had a problem with your exposure. Just so long as I'm the _only_ one enjoying it."

Rose moved back, eyes taunting. Her tongue slipped between her teeth as her lips curved upward. "My dear Time Lord, are you tellin' me you're possessive?"

He drew a step closer. _Rassilon_, she was going to be the end of him. "My dear human, are you telling me you're surprised?"

Wicked grin still in place, she moved away and made a show of examining the room, drawing the long drapes closed across the windows as she did so.

"Well, there doesn't seem to be anyone else here now," she assessed, coming back to stand before him, the top button of the shirt now freed. "Think we might be alone." Another button was undone, revealing a hint of cleavage.

His eyes followed the movement of her hands. "So it seems."

"And I really should return this shirt, seein' as how it's yours." A few more buttons came loose, the white Oxford now undone down to her navel.

"Didn't quite fit you anyway," he added, knowing full well he was playing with fire. "It was a bit tight…across the chest."

She lifted a sculpted brow. "You callin' me fat?" There was a gleam in her eye as she liberated the last button from its hole.

He shook his head. "I'm calling you generously proportioned in all the right places and the distinct opposite of the male form."

The shirt now hung open, but was still drawn somewhat together. "Is that so?"

He shrugged one shoulder. "If memory serves me."

Rose finally peeled back the shirt, slipping it from her body and dropping it to the floor behind her. She stood before him, bold and exposed. "So how's that memory of yours?"

His eyes freely roamed her flesh. "Faultless."

In a swift move, she was against him again, the press of lips and chests and bellies and thighs.

And hands.

Hands on temples.

His temples.

She had been about to delve into his mind, to intensify their connection. And he had been about to allow it.

What was he _doing_?

Well, that was clear enough. But it simply couldn't continue. He groaned, and reached up to remove her hands from his face.

Rose pulled back, dazed, with a questioning expression. She knew he highly enjoyed being touched there; knew it stimulated him almost as much as a certain other region. So why, she clearly wondered, was he stopping her?

He cradled her hands to his chest as he leaned in and kissed her with aching tenderness. His words that followed burned like bile on their way up his throat.

"We have plenty of time," he whispered against the corner of her lips. "No need to rush."

She rocked into him in the way she knew was sure to drive him mad. "Some things can't wait," Rose countered.

He leaned in to kiss her again, murmuring into her mouth. "You're right…"

Uttering an inward apology, his hand moved up to her own temple in a mirror of her earlier touch. He placed his fingers there, nudging into her mind and ushering her into a state of sleep.

Rose fell boneless into his arms. He caught her and lifted her up, carried her a few paces toward the bed and placed her gently down.

"I'm so sorry," he whispered, the broken words echoing into the darkened room.


	8. Chapter 7

**A/N** We'll catch up with the past Doctor in the next chapter. But first, the Doctor and Rose face a different sort of "morning after" as he comes to a decision.

* * *

**Chapter 7**

As morning dawned on the leisure planet of Paradise, it brought with it a situation the Doctor had not intended. He had remained here with Rose.

Things had come dangerously close to going too far the night before – _he_ had come dangerously close. So then, after placing Rose into a state of deep sleep, the only way to salvage the entire situation would have been to return her to her correct timeline, moments after he had wrongfully spirited her away. Her memories would then have been repressed and the rightful stream of Time once again allowed to flow, writing over this unlawful deviation. This had been his intention the night before. He had planned to do so before daybreak. Before any more damage could be done.

Yet here he was, holding out for one more minute. One more hour. One more day.

One more day.

Just one. He would then let Rose go and allow Time to carry on as it had. As it must. Maybe if they parted when he wasn't screaming her name or beginning a sentence that could never be completed then he could live the next few centuries with just a fraction more peace.

The Doctor pushed aside, as he had done since taking this mad leap, the feeling of disturbance along the ripples of Time. This was wrong. He knew that. Timelines were no longer just twisting. They were now beginning to snap off at the root in an attempt to reform, trying to re-write the history of not only his past self and Rose, but all who crossed their path who otherwise would not have done so in the original order of things. This had changed established events. And that change had been brought about by the damaging force of a forbidden paradox. Even still, he inwardly reasoned that the damage could still mend itself once he backtracked through Time. The past would revert to its previous state. Everything would be alright. He would be alright. He was always alright.

If he repeated the mantra enough, maybe someday it would become true.

Turning his attention on something far more pleasant, the Doctor immersed himself in every single aspect of Rose's sleeping form as she lay beside him on the bed. The cadence of her gentle breaths, the curves and planes of her relaxed features, every soft flutter of dark lashes against ivory skin as she chased her dreams – he preserved it all deep within the fortress of his mind, safeguarded, never allowed to be taken from him, even if all else would be.

The first soft rays of dawn had grown brighter, and were now dancing over Rose's eyelids. He knew it would not be long before she woke. There was a chance he would have some difficult explaining to do about the night before, but considering the effects of the alien wine that had coursed through her system, likely not. He felt a sharp pang of guilt over inducing sleep in such a way. But ironic as the reasoning may be, he had been trying to do the right thing by keeping it from going further. But withholding all this from Rose was sitting uneasily in his gut. Yet how could he ravage her heart by subjecting her to the same pain he carried over the knowledge of their separation? She would be forced to live with it soon enough.

It wasn't long before Rose began to stir. There was no turning back from this day. He knew the moment her eyes looked into his that any lingering rational thoughts of ending this here and now would vanish.

And he was right. Rose opened her eyes, and for a moment, the only movement of which he was capable was that of his chest as he breathed in and out, gaze fixed on her. Even in her drowsy state, she could no doubt decipher the intensity in his eyes.

"Hello, Rose Tyler," he breathed out, low and a little bit unsteady.

Rose shifted her body toward him, his eyes riveted to her every move, studying her entire form as if she was something rare.

"Hello yourself," she answered, having rolled on her side to face him.

"Are you…feeling alright?" he asked, as a hand lifted and gravitated out towards her, but then just lingered in the space between them, as if she might shatter if he touched her.

"I…" Rose scrunched up her face as she drew her brows together in a deep frown. "Wait…what happened?" His eyes flicked away from hers. "Last night, I mean. It's…sort of fuzzy. I remember we came back here, but then…I…I don't remember much else."

"You…well, you had too much Rajaran wine, and your system doesn't metabolize it as readily as the locals. Plus you were exhausted, having already been up for eighteen hours straight on Barcelona before we even came here." Both statements were true. Neither, however, gave the full explanation.

A horrified look overtook her face. "Did…did I…fall asleep on you? I did, didn't I? Oh… _Oh_! I'm sorry!" Rose flopped to her back and covered her face with her hands.

He jiggled her arm. "Hey. Shhh. None of that. There's nothing for you to be sorry for, Rose," he said in all earnestness, and that much, at least, was true.

She slid her hands away and gazed up at him, still blushing. "I s'pose I'll just have to make it up to you…"

He smiled wanly. "You have nothing to make up for. Not you."

The Doctor reached out and cupped her cheek, then traced the curve of her bottom lip with the delicate glide of his thumb. Drawn almost against his will, and certainly his better judgment, he leaned forward, lips touching and softly caressing hers, dry and warm. She melted beneath him with a contented sigh.

Something tugged unpleasantly in the back of his mind, like an awareness of Time losing further stability. He took a heaving breath as he broke the kiss and turned his head from her.

"Doctor?"

He shook his head, eyes clenched shut. He then looked back to Rose. Despite the threat of calamity, her very essence was a soothing balm, drawing him back like a magnetizing force. He sucked in another breath and sank back down to her mouth.

It was like he was being torn in two. Stay or leave? Neither seemed to be a solution he could live with.

The kiss intensified. Rose was meeting his tongue stroke for stroke, teeth nipping, hands roaming and grasping. His fingers curled into the soft flesh of her shoulder almost to the point of pain. He didn't want to hurt her. Never. He only wanted to know she was real. Right here, right now, she was real and within reach.

'_I'm still just an image. No touch,' _his own pained voice repeated in his mind. This made him hold more tightly, more desperately, while he could.

He knew she could sense his desperation, even if she didn't fully understand its cause.

Rose pushed lightly on his chest, separating them both just enough to see into his eyes. "Not that I'm complainin' about this kind of wake-up greeting, but…are you okay?"

The backs of his knuckles followed a tender path across her jaw. "I just…_missed_ you," he murmured, almost inaudibly. Then, in a lighter tone, "You sleep entirely too much."

Rose was experienced with his mercurial moods, but even for him, it was clear she suspected this was something more. It was also clear she knew he was burying whatever it was so deeply down inside that it would take some painful excising to reach and expose.

His guarded yet pleading eyes seemed to reach an understanding with hers. She wasn't going to force the issue just yet.

"Well then…maybe missing me is a good thing if this is the result," she rejoined, putting lightness in her tone, clearly hoping to lift this heavy mood that still hung over him. The remark only served to deepen the raw desperation in his eyes. "I…I'm sorry. I didn't mean…"

He smiled – a fragile curve of his lips. "It's okay." Then diverting away from the dismal topic, he asked, "Did you sleep well?"

Rose stretched contentedly in his arms. The brush of her warm body against his bare torso and the lazy smile that pulled her lips upward made him ache inside. Were they really only going to have this single day? The mere thought was devastating. Dangerous.

"Mmm, very well." She edged back just enough to look into his face, concern etching its way across hers. "Did you sleep?"

He brushed a haphazard strand of hair back from her face. "I had more important things to do. Can't see you properly if my eyes are closed, now can I?" It was almost uncharacteristic for him to be so blatant with his feelings – his _need_ for her very presence.

Rose didn't seem to mind. She hummed sleepily as she snuggled in closer. "I remember you once told me you had counted how many times my eyes twitched when I slept. You remember?"

He choked down the swelling constriction in his throat. "'Course I do. I remember every moment we've ever had. I'll never forget a single one."

Rose blinked up at him, growing increasingly mindful of his unusual openness. "Careful. That almost sounded romantic."

He blithely shrugged it off. "_Almost_. Maybe I'm not too far gone just yet." She playfully thumped his chest. He caught her hand and placed a kiss to her palm. "Or maybe I am…," he murmured.

"Doctor…," she whispered, eyes searching his.

"Breakfast!" he exclaimed, needing to break the solemn mood that he was determined to outrun. "You, Rose Tyler, need to eat. Be right back with room service."

He quickly stood and snatched his shirt off the floor which she had worn the previous night, pulled it on and nearly drowned in the essence of Rose that overwhelmed his senses, causing his first step or two to falter.

-:-:-:-

The Doctor bound out of the room, leaving Rose feeling an acute case of whiplash coming on. Or maybe it was just a hangover. Blessedly, she didn't feel the typical unpleasant effects, though. She sat up in bed, the sheet sliding down her body as she did so. She lifted it back over her bare chest and tucked it beneath her arms. With a hot flush, Rose recalled a little more of the previous night. The Doctor was right...hangover or no, she _did_ have too much wine. That explained the fogginess she had over some of the later details. It also explained her brazen behavior.

Rose was not one to shy away from new experiences, willing to try just about anything once. Last night, however, had been pushing the limits even for her. Rose's relationship with the Doctor was something the two of them protected and guarded, to the point that it was also held private to a certain degree – something sacred between the two of them alone. So trying to arouse him in such a public way had been an unexpected, atypical move on her part.

Rose slouched beneath the covers and drew the sheet up to her mouth, hiding a blushing smile behind it. If she recalled correctly, the Doctor had not entirely minded, though. Well, he _had_; but a show of possessiveness wasn't always a bad thing. And it had certainly served the purpose of getting his full attention.

Temporarily.

Rose was reminded why she had been compelled to do so. Something was definitely off with him. He wasn't just brooding over the typical trials and tribulations of the universe. There was something troubling him which struck closer, she could tell. And whatever it was, he was keeping it from her. This was not entirely unusual for him, considering his often closed-off nature when it came to the darker things within him. She had hoped, however, that they had made substantial progress in that regard. She wasn't going to just let this go, but decided not to push him about it again so soon. She would instead focus on mutually enjoying the day and hope that his demons would either cease their pursuit, or he would choose, of his own accord, to enlist her help in fighting them.

-:-:-:-

The Doctor returned several minutes later with a tray of fresh food. Upon entering, he noted that Rose had dressed during the time he was away, now sitting cross-legged on the bed in a fresh pair of jeans and blue jumper chosen from the suite's wardrobe system. Her blonde hair was swept back in a loose ponytail, and her face was free of makeup. It was just Rose, down to the essentials; and she was breathtaking.

He joined her on the bed, placing the tray of breakfast items between them both. Thanks to the fully-stocked kitchen, he'd brought a sizable selection. Toast and assorted jams sat amongst a sampling of luscious native sliced fruits, along with two mugs of steaming hot tea of a pure light blend and sweet aroma.

The food was arranged between them, and Rose reached for a slice of bright blue melon. She popped it in her mouth before lifting her tea, cradling the white porcelain mug between her palms.

"So, what are the plans for today?" she asked brightly, blowing across the steaming swirl wafting atop her beverage.

"What would you like to do, Rose?" quietly questioned.

She considered the options for a moment, then made a suggestion. "How about the anti-gravity skysailing? We never did get around to that particular activity the last time we were here. Sounded fun, though."

The Doctor gave a nod of agreement, wanting to allow Rose what little he could, and also hoping the exhilarating activity might help to keep his mind occupied. "The contained environment off the Northern coast should make for quite the view…and experience," he noted, swallowing down a jam-covered bite of toast.

His focus instantly shifted off the day's itinerary and on to Rose as he heard her hiss in pain. She had jostled her brimming cup of tea and spilled some of the scalding contents on her hand.

"Rose?" he asked in alarm, taking her scorched hand in his and inspecting it carefully.

"It's okay. I'll just run it under some cool water."

She made to get up, but he kept a hold of her hand as he leaned over the edge of the bed and retrieved the sonic screwdriver from the pocket of his discarded jacket.

"No. Here, let me see." He switched on the sonic and ran the soothing beam over her reddened skin. A feeling of panic began to well up in him. "This wasn't supposed to happen," he murmured shakily to himself.

Rose chuckled, smoothing the fingers of her uninjured hand over the creases in his forehead. "It's not the first time I've spilled hot tea on myself. I think I'll live. Stop lookin' like the world is comin' to an end."

Dark eyes flicked up to hers before focusing back on her hand. It wasn't severe, just a superficial scalding of the epidermis, healed in a matter of seconds with the alleviating frequency of the sonic. The incident was _not_, however, inconsequential. It was never meant to happen at all.

"All better," he said with a shaky sigh, releasing her palm.

It wasn't the severity of the injury, great or small, that frightened him. It was the fact that it happened in the first place. This had not occurred in her original timeline. This injury, minuscule as it may seem, was never meant to happen in the life of Rose Tyler.

The same was true for _everything_ they were currently experiencing. And now in the midst of this stolen time, she had been hurt. It left the Doctor's mind wrestling with other dangerous potentials. What else might happen to her that would not have otherwise occurred now that changes were being made to established events?

Rose's voice drew him back, her fingers wiggling in front of his face. "See? Nothin' to fuss over."

His answering smile was as unconvincing as his words. "Yeah."

-:-:-:-

The Doctor and Rose were going to take a group shuttle to Paradise's Northern coast, but found the city's mass transit system was temporarily malfunctioning. The Doctor's anxiety intensified. He could feel the instability of this region increasing. He knew he could not stay here much longer with Rose, but he was determined to give them both this one final day. Some of the private shuttles were still in operation, so they were able to procure a vessel and make the trip.

The anti-gravity skysailing attraction was popular amongst the leisure planet's tourists. A designated section of the coast contained a controlled environment which regulated the effects of gravity. Through feats of engineering, this anti-gravitational bubble was not visible, and thus the surrounding view was unlimited, adding to the participants' sense of flying unrestricted over the ocean.

It would certainly make for an exhilarating experience. But with the recent mechanical glitches throughout this place, the Doctor was concerned with the safety of this particular activity. As a precaution, he planned to give it a thorough scanning before he and Rose participated.

Unfortunately, he never got that far. Considering the attraction's popularity, the Doctor's first clue that something was out of sorts was the fact that the area was practically empty. As they neared the entrance to the skysailing venue, they discovered the reason for the absence of a crowd. The area was cordoned off, with a sign informing guests that the attraction was temporarily out of service.

"It's closed," Rose noted with a tone of disappointment. "What's up with all the malfunctions here lately?" she mused.

The Doctor's brow furrowed deeply. "It's getting worse," he murmured. He caught her eye and saw the look of concern there. Before more could be said, they were interrupted by a man approaching them.

"Sorry!" a voice called out as a venue operator came near. "I apologize for any inconvenience, but we're closed today due to…maintenance."

"What type of maintenance, exactly?" the Doctor needed to know.

"A simple repair to a minor malfunction in the system," the operator underplayed.

"When did this begin?"

"There were a few glitches yesterday, so we've had to temporarily close down operations. Safety reasons, you understand. Rest assured, we take the utmost caution where our guests are concerned. I am sorry to inconvenience you, but we should have this straightened out directly."

"Yeah," the Doctor acknowledged hoarsely.

"'S okay. We'll find something else to do," Rose said.

Numbly, the Doctor turned with her and walked away. They boarded the small transport shuttle and headed back to the city, the ride spent in relative silence as his mind churned.

Time was falling apart. It was literally unraveling around them. The technical glitches being experienced on this planet could have been chalked up to some innocuous cause under any other circumstances, but that wasn't the case now. Everything around them was destabilizing. The longer they stayed, the worse it would become. It wasn't just affecting the mechanical side of things. Oh, if only that was all. It was affecting every living being in this place because he and Rose were here, shattering Time's stability with each step they took. Every altered timeline was morphing, twisting, and now cracking beneath the weight of this sizable paradox.

The answer to fixing all this was simple. So very simple. Yet so excruciatingly impossible. He had to give up Rose. Again. He could not put it off any longer.

_No_.

In that moment of fateful decision, the Doctor finally admitted to himself what he had been refusing to acknowledge since taking this forbidden step: he knew this could never be temporary. He knew he could never let her go. Not again. He couldn't. He just couldn't.

Fierce resolve rose up within him and roared like fire through his veins.

He would _not_ give Rose up. Not this time. He would find a way to keep her with him, whatever it took.

There _had_ to be a way. This would mean getting off this planet, though. Time was shattering around them and affecting everything in their proximity. He had to get them back on the TARDIS. The fortified time ship would be shielded from these effects. At least to a point. It would buy him some time, at the very least – time he would use in one final mad attempt to bring about the impossible.


	9. Chapter 8

**A/N **The Doctor's plan is about to face a few more obstacles.

* * *

**Chapter 8**

The Doctor had stood in the dark, empty alleyway on the planet Barcelona, numb to the bone for all of a few seconds before fire rose inside him and burned away the shock, propelling him into action. His mind began a rapid assessment of the situation, resolute in finding answers. He pieced together what little bit he knew in hopes it would lead him to an explanation. And from there, hopefully a course of action.

Rose was gone. The TARDIS was gone. Rose had been seen leaving with _himself_. He had felt Time destabilizing around him to an increasing degree ever since. Though the answer was not one he had hoped to discover, he was drawing a dismal conclusion none the less as to what had caused the growing temporal instability. It was not due to primitive time-altering technology that had caused small temporal eddies in this region. It was due to a massive paradox.

A paradox of his own creation.

Or at least, it _would_ be of his own doing, at some point in his future. All current evidence pointed to that grim deduction. His next desperate question was _why_? What would drive him to do something like this? What would push him to take such a risk – to shatter the very Laws of Time? Had he gone mad? A chill ran down his spine as he considered this. It was not outside the realm of possibility. Time Lords were not immune to such a fate. And there were times after the War, during his darkest and most desperate, when he came close to feeling as if he had.

Perhaps more chilling than this possibility was the thought that the damage his future self was causing had been done with a clear mind. Clear, but decidedly dangerous. What could have driven him to take such forbidden action? In answer to that question, every potential scenario was bleak. If he had done all of this in order to take Rose, then that pointed to just one thing: at some point in his future, Rose was no longer by his side. He had lost her. The Doctor's hearts constricted painfully at the thought.

He knew it was inevitable someday, which was why he always made an effort not to dwell upon what his life might be like after. Now he had no choice. He was being forced to view a fearful glimpse.

The Doctor drove the thought of Rose's prospective loss out of his mind. If he pondered the When, Where and How of that possibility, he might go as potentially mad as his future self. Instead, he focused on what he knew to be true about Rose's current absence. It was wrong. She was _meant_ to be with him, right _here_, right _now_. His future self couldn't hope to sustain this substantial paradox for any length of time, and the Doctor was _not_ going to stand by and allow his rightful current life with Rose to be taken from him. Not by anyone. Not even himself. However much time they were meant to have together, they _would_ have it.

This left only one option: he was going to get her back.

It was time to start gathering together every bit of information he could uncover. Using the sonic, he lost no time in scanning every square inch of the immediate area. The subsequent readings were as he suspected. Traces of released Artron energy confirmed the TARDIS' departure sequence. Beyond that, the surrounding temporal fluctuations were lighting up his every scan and hampering his ability to detect any other data which might prove useful.

With one exception. There was one particular area nearby that seemed to be producing a different type of temporal anomaly. Something was out of sync in that zone. Abnormal readings were not a surprise considering the encompassing haphazard chaos. But this scan showed something slightly different. The surrounding waves of Time were all a jumble, but the disorder flowed at the same mad rate. This anomalous reading, however, suggested there was a nearby pocket where Time was moving at a different pace, slightly slower than the surrounding chaotic flow.

The Doctor had no idea if this would have any bearing on the current crisis, but he was certainly going to investigate just the same.

With the sonic outstretched and guiding the way, the Doctor followed after the unexplained readings. He hurried down the darkened street, lit overhead by the occasional burst of fireworks as the dwindling celebrations continued throughout the region. He turned down a less prominent side lane and continued on for another several meters, gauging his proximity to the source by the increasing strength of the readouts. The scans showed that just up ahead, the cause of the anomaly would be found.

The Doctor continued on for a few more paces before reaching the spot which directly emanated the peculiar readings. It was a seemingly-innocuous plot of grass adjacent to the road. There did not appear to be anything unusual here. At least not to the naked eye. But his senses and his sonic told him otherwise. There _was_ something here – something which existed at a pace outside of the surrounding temporal tempo.

Adjusting the sonic screwdriver, the Doctor narrowed the scanning field and homed in on the readings. This confirmed it. Time was out of sync in this one spot. By creating a small-scale temporal stabilization field with his sonic, the Doctor attempted to unify the two differing timestreams and merge them as one.

The air left his lungs in a rush as a blue Police Box flickered dimly and then shifted into full view directly before him.

The TARDIS.

The Doctor's face split into a wide-open grin as he let out a whoop of joy. He had the TARDIS. Past, present or future version of the ship – it didn't matter. All that mattered was he had the _TARDIS_. Which meant he now had decidedly more than just a snowball's chance in Krop Tor of tracking down Rose.

-:-:-:-

The leisure planet of Paradise was about to split at the seams under the hefty force of Time's escalating havoc. Having retreated from the coast, the Doctor and Rose exited the small automated transport shuttle together once reaching the heart of the endangered city. Rose turned to the Doctor, unwittingly hoping they could move on to another activity and dispel his dark mood that seemed to have mounted during their relatively quiet ride back.

"So, where to next?" she asked cheerily. "An entire leisure planet at our disposal. Maybe we could–"

He turned to her abruptly. "Rose, we need to leave."

She stared at him, perplexed. "Leave?"

"I'm sorry to cut it short, but I think it's best if we move on. And the sooner the better. We can't…it's not…"

"It's not _what_?" she prompted him.

"Safe. It's not safe here. They've been having mechanical glitches left and right, and it's getting worse."

"Well, maybe you could help fix them," she reasoned. "It's the sort of thing you do, yeah? You could help them have it all sorted in no time, I bet."

"No," he answered sharply. He then softened his tone but not his stance on the matter. "It will eventually clear up fine on its own, but I can sense that things would not be good for us if we stayed. The best thing for us to do is leave now. Just…just trust me on that. Please. I'm sorry. I know you wanted more time here, but this is for the best."

He could tell Rose was more concerned about _his_ current issues than the ones of this place. She agreed in order to appease his need to leave, but was still puzzled as to why he felt this way. "It's okay. We can leave if that's what you want. But…why are you so worried for our safety here all of the sudden?"

"It's not all of the sudden," he responded quietly. "I always worry about keeping you safe. And I can see timelines, Rose. I can see potentials. If we were to stay then I…I just know it wouldn't be good."

She moved in and wrapped her arms around him in a tight embrace – not the light, affectionate sort of just-because-hug, but the kind that sought to ground him and impart comfort. "'S okay, Doctor. If you want to leave we can leave. Just don't worry so much, okay?"

He returned her embrace strongly, fiercely. "Everything will be better once we're on the TARDIS…once we've moved on."

Despite his urgency, Rose insisted on saying goodbye to Jaise and Kalissa before leaving. Knowing she would not relent on this point, the Doctor reluctantly agreed so long as it was done quickly.

He knew the situation was serious, but realized just how bad things had truly gotten as they neared the Guest Services complex. The city was a busy place, and the crowds were heavier here. The Doctor didn't even have to peer much deeper this time to see that everyone around them looked wrong – marred and distorted, a reflection of their timelines in the same state. No one else could see this yet, but it was nearly enough to drive a Time Lord mad.

Maybe he already was, he thought grimly.

They entered the complex, and it wasn't until they encountered Jaise and Kalissa that the full impact of the consequences hit the Doctor with blunt force. The couple's timelines were not distorted or warped. They were nearly nonexistent. He and Rose had intermingled with the timestreams of these two more so than any others while here. Every altered move the Doctor and Rose made extended the paradox, and it couldn't help but become entangled with those around them. It was now difficult to even see a clear path for their timelines beyond this point. Time was crumbling, collapsing around them.

Jaise and Kalissa were talking to Rose, grimly explaining something about the entire planet's systems beginning to show signs of shutting down, but the Doctor was tuned-out to the specifics. His only focus was on leaving. Immediately.

"Rose, we have to go. _Now_," he cut in.

"But…"

He looked to the two Rajaran's, numbing his senses because he was barely able to stomach the sight of Time's destruction. "I'll sort this," he promised, though he feared there was only one way.

"For once," said Jaise, "I'm going to trust you." The words were like a knife in the Doctor's chest. The man extended his hand and shook the Doctor's. The hand felt like death, cold and fading.

-:-:-:-

On numb legs, the Doctor made a hasty retreat with Rose, intent on reaching the TARDIS as quickly as possible. The small transport shuttle was only able to maintain its function and carry them to the docking port thanks to near-constant fixes the Doctor made to its systems along the way.

They reached the port and strode ever forward toward the TARDIS, toward escape, each person they passed now a mere shadow to him, fading vapors soon to be snuffed out by Time's collapse.

By the time they reached the TARDIS and the Doctor shut the doors of the ship behind them, he knew what would soon exist on the other side.

Nothing at all.

Time was unnaturally folding inward, taking with it those nearest to the source of the destruction – that deleterious source being the Doctor and Rose.

There were paradoxes and then there were _Paradoxes_. All had adverse effects on the ordered flow of Time, but they brought with them varying degrees of ruin. Changing the path of Time for a being whose existence was intricately woven throughout Time itself was the most severe. This wasn't just altering Rose's past. This was altering his. The Doctor's past timeline had been compromised and was destabilizing. It was only a matter of progression before it caught up to his present existence. Creating a paradox involving Time's last remaining Lord was the greatest of all dangers.

And this was exactly what he had done.

By taking Rose outside of her set timeline, he was rewriting history. Not just her past history, but his own – the set history of a Time Lord. A paradox of the highest degree had been created, and the only hope he had of fixing it while still keeping Rose in his life was to somehow stabilize, reconcile and merge the past and the present.

If he could keep Rose by his side then that would mean he would not have lost her at Canary Wharf. That, obviously, would completely change his own current life as he knew it. If he could somehow find a way to stabilize such a major alteration, then his own current timeline would merge with that change. It would write over everything he had experienced since losing her, but it was a price he was more than willing to pay.

The only major question was whether he could make this possibility of a temporal merger a reality. And if so, could he accomplish it before reaching the point of a total collapse?

They were safe in the TARDIS. For now. She was capable of maintaining integrity in the face of such a paradox, to a certain extent. It wasn't a permanent solution, but as the fabric of Time tore like a rag around them, it was the only option.

If he was going to allow all this to continue even longer, though, it brought up another issue that he had avoided thinking about up until now.

Himself.

Originally, he'd planned to have Rose returned before his past self would even have a chance to know that she had been gone. Now, however, he'd given himself plenty of time to not only realize it, but try to do something about it. But no matter, he told himself. If he could stabilize this and merge the timelines, that would take care of the issue.

But not theparticular issue that was currently staring him in the face. Right now there was yet another pressing matter at hand.

Rose.

Upon entering the TARDIS, she had stood beside the console, watching him intensely as he put them in flight. He looked up and caught her eyes, and she pinned his own.

Rose took several determined steps toward him, gaze keeping him caged.

"Doctor, tell me what's going on. Now."


	10. Chapter 9

**A/N **This is the edited T-rated version of the chapter, which does not contain explicit adult content. The unedited adult version can be found on Teaspoon, the link to which is in my profile page.

Believe it or not, I actually tried to tone-down some of the angst in this chapter! And I'll say again, this seemingly bleak place is _not_ the end of the line for the Doctor and Rose in this 'verse. Not by a long shot...

* * *

**Chapter 9**

_Rose took several determined steps toward him, gaze keeping him caged._

"_Doctor, tell me what's going on. Now." _

The Doctor froze at Rose's question and the tone in which it was asked. She wasn't letting him breeze past the issue this time. And rightfully so. She deserved to know. He just wasn't sure if he could manage to choke out the confession. His aversion to discussing this was not solely due to guilt over the damage his actions had caused; he also did not want to inflict upon Rose the painful truth of what had led up to all this.

But regardless of his reasons for wanting to avoid the distressing conversation, right now there simply wasn't time for giving answers _or_ denials. He needed to work toward a solution of stabilizing this paradox before it was too late. Even as he completed the dematerialization sequence to get the TARDIS into the Vortex, this alone was a challenge, because the Time Vortex was itself in a turbulent state, further underscoring the situation's need for urgency.

"Rose, I know you need answers. I understand that. But right now there's a major temporal issue that needs my full attention."

"So you're basically asking me to shove off and just leave you be," she bristled, fed-up with being put off by him.

"I'm asking for _time_," he pleaded.

She let go of a mirthless laugh. "Sort of ironic comin' from you."

"Yeah," he agreed. "That's true of a lot of things."

Rose moved around him to reach the jump seat, sat down and crossed her arms over her chest. "Alright."

He blinked. "Pardon?"

"I said alright. I'll give you time to work on your…issue." Her eyes narrowed sharply. "But we _are_ gonna talk about this."

Tightly, he nodded once, then turned his full attention to the TARDIS' console, forcing his total concentration on the critical matter at hand.

Rose watched him measuredly as he ran scans, worked through calculations, and performed analyses at a feverish pace. Through it all, she continued to observe him with questioning intensity. He couldn't keep the truth of this from her much longer, he knew that. But like the desperate man he was, he fought to hold out as long as possible. For now he was taking it one issue at a time and just hoping to mitigate the effects of the fraying timelines surrounding them.

It took a mighty effort from the struggling ship just to maintain enough energy for the profuse computations. The Doctor ran scenarios and counter-scenarios in an attempt to find a way to stabilize this and reconcile altered events versus established ones, but he kept running up against a proverbial brick wall. For every possible action he might take, a new potential consequence would arise. For every small fix he might be able to make in Time, another hole would be left in a new location. He was beginning to run out of possible ways in which this could work, but refused to give up trying, entering calculation upon calculation with increasing speed.

Time could be rewritten. He knew this to be true. Events could be changed and reshaped without causing a cataclysm. With one unmovable exception: a fixed point. The reality of this situation was finally making the Doctor face something he had steadfastly refused to even acknowledge up until now.

Their separation was fixed.

He had always known the Battle of Canary Wharf itself was a fixed point in Time, but his mind had staunchly rejected the notion of including Rose's loss in that equation. Now he could no longer deny it.

Multitudes of events throughout Time – both the small and the great – were in flux and could change and be re-routed like the casual flow of a relaxed stream. But _not_ a solid, unyielding fixed point. This one, agonizing event could never change. Never. Time would crumble around them if it did, as was currently taking place.

A multitude of outcomes were possible after their separation. Their lives could be shaped in a thousand different ways and take an infinite number of directions from that point forward. But one thing remained constant through it all – the Doctor must lose Rose in battle at Canary Wharf. It was inevitable and irrevocable.

There was nothing more to analyze. No solution left to attain. He would either have to give Rose up again, or else this cascade of destruction would continue until there was nothing left of either of them or the hapless paths which crossed into theirs.

The Doctor realized through the analysis he had just performed that the instability was following in their wake like a heat-seeking missile. Behind them, the fabric of Time itself was being ripped to shreds; before them, more destruction awaited as Time became further corrupted. He couldn't create a paradox involving a fixed point _and_ one so intricately woven throughout Time as himself without serious consequences. Just arriving at the same place as his past self had caused initial instability, and that was before events had been tampered with. Considering the actions he'd now taken, Time was splintering.

The Doctor could not outrun the consequences. If he continued to try, he would have to jeopardize the entire universe, Rose included. The Doctor had run through scenarios, alternate outcomes, calculations and possibilities. They all kept coming down to one conclusion: this was not going to work. There was no way around it.

The Doctor slammed his hands down on the console, chest heaving as he suppressed the urge to scream at the universe.

He turned from the dismal stream of information flowing from the console's monitor. He couldn't look at it anymore. What he needed to see, to hear, to immerse himself in was Rose.

She had been waiting quietly but intently for him to return to their unfinished conversation. Despite wanting to drag it out of him, she had tempered her feelings. She had held back and given him space in that perceptive way of hers – so simple, so human, so profound.

But there was only so much she would allow him to get away with. As he turned to face her, Rose's countenance, which had initially been shadowed with anger, was beginning to give way to renewed concern as she finally spoke back up.

"You've been keeping something from me," she stated quietly, without accusation. It was simply a fact. "Whatever all…all _this_ is about, you've made a point not to tell me."

He couldn't meet her penetrating gaze. "Yes."

"Why?"

His laugh was weak and hollow. "Would you slap me if I said it was complicated?"

"Would you blame me if I did?"

"No."

She stood, escalating anger gaining a foothold again. "Why can't…why _won't_ you just tell me? Is it because I'm just a stupid ape, not capable of understanding the complicated issues of a Time Lord? Is that it?"

"Rose, _no_. Of course not."

"Then why? Why are you shutting me out? Why have you been _lying_ to me?"

"I've been lying to myself more than anyone else," he replied back, voice weary. "And I just…didn't want to hurt you. Not ever. I only wanted to…"

His words fell silent. He looked at her then. Her warm caramel eyes met his, and he wondered how it was possible for one person to have the ability to heal and shatter him in the same moment.

In that instant, something changed within her own eyes – in the way she saw him. Anger and frustration were swept aside by something even more intense, more visceral and raw. Something akin to what his own eyes carried.

It was almost as if she could see right through him, no words of confession needed.

Before anything more could be said, Rose moved forward and simply enfolded him in her arms. Somehow she always seemed to know just what he needed – when to come close, when to give him space, when to push, and when to hold on and not let go.

"Oh, Doctor…," she began, easing back and curving her hand over his cheek as she searched out the last remaining answers within his tempestuous eyes.

He pressed trembling lips to her temple. "Shhh," he pleaded. "Shhh. Just…just let me feel you. For now just let me…oh, let me just…"

He drug her body flush to him as his mouth came crashing down. She didn't resist him. She gave him this. His hands clutched fistfuls of her hair, pulling it free of the loose ponytail as he kissed her savagely, and still she didn't protest. Instead, she matched his fire with her own inferno, burning through his pain.

Rose pressed her forehead to his and pulled her lips free just long enough to speak again. "Doctor, don't carry this alone," she breathlessly urged. "Let me help."

His arms clutched her body and drew her all the closer. He simply didn't have the ability to put all this into words. The only ones he seemed capable of came spilling out instead.

"You're _here_, with me, so right now you _are_ helping," he asserted in a thick voice. She tipped her chin up to look into his eyes. "I just…" He shook his head and went silent.

Rose stretched up on her toes and pressed her swollen lips to his. He responded with barely-contained desperation. She slowed the frenzy to layer kisses over the rough, day-old stubble of his cheek, his jaw, his chin, before coming back up to land softly on his lips. She murmured into his parted mouth.

"Always contemplating the concerns of the universe…" Her whispered words were an echo of the ones she had spoken to him when he was still just beginning to learn how to let her in and crack open his armor.

"I don't want to," he rasped. "Oh, Rose, I don't want to anymore. I'm tired. So tired of…of…"

"Then _tell_ me what I can do," she urged softly.

His smile shook as he framed her face with both hands and stroked her cheeks with the pads of his thumbs. "You're already doing it. Just being yourself. Just being here with me – that's all I've ever needed."

"I _am_ here. You've got me," she assured him with quiet intensity.

He fought to keep his voice from cracking like the universe around them. "Yeah."

Intuitively knowing they needed more, knowing it was so far beyond lustful craving, she broke apart from the clinging embrace in order to take him by the hand. Turing, she silently led him with her down the corridor.

She was bringing him to their room. One last time.

Mutely, the Doctor followed on shaking legs. They reached the entrance to the bedroom – the room he had come to avoid in his current ship – and suddenly he didn't even know what to do anymore. How could he have her completely, and in equal measure let her go? He was paralyzed.

It was Rose's words that compelled him to action as she turned to face him. "You've got me," she repeated, placing her hands over his hearts. "Always. No matter what. Right _here_." Her hands squeezed through thick fabric to reach the fragile flesh covering his hearts.

The kiss that followed was frantic and wet and bruising as he walked her backwards in to the room. They didn't stop until her legs connected with the edge of the bed. In this TARDIS, the bed was one still currently shared by them, and if he focused on that it made it easier to pretend, just for this moment, that this was right, that this was okay, that _they_ were okay.

He broke from her, eyes raw and breathing rate erratic. There would be no stopping for him this time; no holding back in order to prevent her mind from seeing his. If he had to chain their bond shut to keep her from accessing and experiencing his pain then he would. But he could not hold himself back from her anymore. Not in this moment.

The back of his hand feathered delicately across her cheek, down her neck, to her shoulder – so light a touch when inside he wanted to possess, to lay an eternal claim. But still he asked. He would not take this one last thing from her when the universe was taking everything else.

"Rose, c-can I…?"

She rocked forward, taking his face in her hands. "Yes," she breathed into his mouth before kissing him hard.

"You're still angry," he mumbled against her assaulting lips.

"Yeah," she returned, between nips of her teeth and flicks of her tongue. She stopped, eyes opening to find and pin his. "'Cause some things aren't fair. And because of that, some things are forgivable."

He snapped. There was no more restraint left in him. Hands tore at clothing in a desperate need for full, unhindered contact. Buttons were freed without pause and zippers were wrenched apart – her blouse, his jacket, their trousers – each piece of shed clothing was like the dropping of petals from a fading blossom that would soon wither and vanish.

There was no seductive teasing or slow, torturous foreplay. This was raw need that would be over far too soon yet would still burn until Time was no more.

Once stripped bare, down to nothing but hot flesh and blood, the Doctor's hands and mouth traced his lost lover's skin, reliving an aching memory and creating a final one that would endure for eternity. Every smooth line, supple curve, and sloping dip was singed into his being. He conveyed his love, his sorrow, his joy and his anguish with every caress of his fingers and touch of his lips.

He somehow managed to keep his tumultuous emotions caged just enough to stop from drowning them both. But when Rose reached for and was able to achieve touching his mind with hers, the dam nearly broke. He locked away his pain the best he could, shielding her from the inevitable for as long as possible.

Rose chased away his burning tears with her lips. He knew that what was hurting him, even if she didn't understand it, was hurting her, too. He could see it in her sorrowful, passion-filled eyes as her body sought to soothe his with every touch – every glide of fingertips up his spine, palms down his chest, lips upon his throat – each touch offering fleeting solace and escape, anger melting away beneath the fervent burn of love.

He tumbled with her on to the bed, needing all he could take. _No_. All she would give.

-:-:-:-

Afterwards, the Doctor eased up and watched her face as her breathing became slow and even. She was exhausted. He wasn't the only one feeling the weight of this burden. She carried it, too, even if she didn't fully know.

The hushed moments passed and her body fully relaxed. As she drifted into weary slumber, he gathered her to his side. The Doctor's impassioned vow of never letting her go reverberated in his mind. He felt like he was being torn in two. He could not let her go but he could not keep her with him. If he tried, it might mean the cost of the universe. He had thought he was ready to pay the personal cost in taking this reckless action, but he had not foreseen the extensive price being so great.

The Doctor gazed into Rose's face as his fingers painted a tender line over her cheek. She was so irrepressible, even in sleep. Frighteningly fragile yet resilient and bold. With that thought, yet another grim reality in all this began to haunt him. What of the life Rose was undoubtedly making for herself a universe away? Rose Tyler, Defender of the Earth. That future timeline had not yet been fully jeopardized. But if this ever-growing alteration continued down the line, that life would cease to exist. He could feel her own timeline destabilizing the longer this paradox was allowed to continue. Regardless of that warring inner voice that wanted to scream otherwise, it was becoming agonizingly clear to him that Rose's future was never meant to be changed in this way.

If the degrading timelines continued their collapse, Rose might be lost completely. At least in the parallel world she was safe. That had been his lone source of solace after Canary Wharf. He had made the agonizing choice to send her away from him in order to keep her safe. He was now faced with that same decision.

A plainspoken woman named Donna had once asked him a simple yet crucial question – a question he now could not escape.

'_That friend of yours…did she trust you?'_

'_Yes, she did. And she is NOT dead. She is SO alive.'_

"So alive…," he whispered, fingers trailing her warm cheek.

As the surge of life Rose had just imparted to him continued to course through his veins, so did this renewed resolution. Whether together or apart, she _would_ live. If he could give her nothing else, he could give her this.

-:-:-:-

The Doctor eased himself out of the bed, leaving Rose to slumber for a few more moments. He dressed quietly, eyes never leaving her.

He then went back to the console room and took one last look at the final conclusion that had been drawn from the extrapolated data. He cleared it from the view screen and turned away. Expelling a long breath, he sank to the floor and folded his long limbs beneath him.

The Doctor was so lost in his thoughts that Rose's soft voice caught him unawares.

"Doctor?"

She found him there in the console room, sitting on the cold grated floor with his back to the Time Rotor, legs drawn up and arms slung limply over his knees. He lifted heavy eyes as she approached.

Rose moved a few steps closer and sat down in front of him, legs crossed. She had changed back into her jeans and jumper but her hair was still disheveled. She tucked a few scattered locks behind her ears and drew a long breath.

"How long has it been?" she softly inquired.

He opened his mouth, but didn't know how to respond.

"Since you lost me," Rose clarified. "How long has it been since you lost me?"


	11. Chapter 10

**A/N **This is the last chapter before the epilogue. And since the epilogue contains the much needed light at the end of the tunnel and an optimistic glimpse at the AU path this 'verse will be taking, I'm going to try to have it up as quickly as possible. Within a few days max. So grab some tissues and bear with me!

* * *

**Chapter 10**

The Doctor crossed out of the dark Barcelona night and into the warm glow of the interior TARDIS. Upon entering, the lights went low as a warning pulse rumbled from the Time Rotor.

"Steady on," he murmured to the uneasy ship. "I don't like this any more than you do."

This wasn't _his_ ship. Not yet. It was his future TARDIS. The Doctor could feel the temporal variance between himself and the Old Girl. Being inside her was wrong, but he had no choice. The TARDIS knew this, too. And though her time sensitivities were being provoked in a highly uncomfortable way, she knew her earlier Time Lord was here in an attempt to put things right.

The Doctor moved to the central console and placed an unsteady hand there, hoping to regain a bit of his equilibrium now that he was in the presence of his oldest and most constant companion. From inside the TARDIS, he was somewhat shielded from the outside temporal turbulence. But this only served to hone his focus upon his own inner chaos. His current timeline existed at the heart of altered events, which meant the fraying threads began here, with him.

His current timeline was falling apart. Taking Rose from this point in his life had clearly altered something that was _not_ meant to be changed.

This _had_ to be corrected, and he was beginning to realize exactly what step would need to be taken in order to do so. Until now, he had not paused long enough to think through in detail what to do once he located his rogue self, other than to demand this be made right and Rose returned back in time to her rightful place. Such a change would have then written over what had happened here, with suppressed memories ensuring that this would not affect their knowledge of the future.

But now with the Doctor's heightened, almost overpowering awareness of the degree of chaos overtaking his timeline, he realized that such a solution was not going to be sufficient. This had grown beyond such a relatively minimal fix and would require more drastic action to correct. He wondered if his future self was even aware that it had gotten _this_ bad. A later version of himself would not yet be feeling the effects as acutely, due to his future timeline being farther away from the beginning point of corruption. The corrective action that was now going to have to be taken was not something he even wanted to consider, but there was no other way. This would _have_ to be done, for all their sakes.

Nothing about this undertaking was going to be easy. Navigating the Vortex itself would be like sailing through a hurricane, because the chaos was not only surrounding him, but would reach its greatest concentration once he merged in Time and Space with himself and Rose, escalating the paradox. But there was no other choice.

Summoning all of his strength and resolve, the Doctor drew himself up to full height and lifted his eyes to the Time Rotor. "Help me find her," he uttered. "Help me do this. You and me…one last time."

With a mighty pumping rise and fall of the Rotor, the TARDIS spiraled off into the heart of Time's carnage.

-:-:-:-

Rose's somber words still hung in the air between herself and the Doctor, haunting the console room.

'_How long has it been since you lost me?'_

She knew.

Of course she knew. He had almost _felt_ the very instant it clicked in her mind, that moment earlier when her eyes had turned from anger to that of soul-penetrating empathy as she had wrapped him in her arms and whispered for him not to carry this alone. It was unrealistic to think she wouldn't piece it together. It had frightened him sometimes how well Rose could read him, even when he tried to shield his emotions.

The Doctor nearly choked on the reply that followed. "It hasn't been long enough. Not nearly long enough, because it still hurts so much that I can hardly breathe."

A shuttering breath left his lungs, and Rose scooted forward to wrap him in her arms, each drawing wordless comfort. She held him to her as the pent-up sorrow escaped the confines of his soul.

"I wouldn't have changed a single thing about my life with you. You know that, right?" she spoke into the crook of his neck. "No regrets. However it happened – whether I died running with my hand in yours or died of old age, still hand-in-hand with you – I wouldn't have missed our time together for anything. _Anything_."

The Doctor pulled back. He sucked in a sharp breath and scrubbed roughly at the salty tracks of tears on his face. "Oh, Rose, you… You're _not_ dead. But you…you were _taken_ from me. There was a battle. You were pulled away and there was nothing I could do. I couldn't stop it and I couldn't save you. Now you're trapped in a parallel word. There are two universes separating us, and I can never reach you again. I've lost you, Rose."

Rose stared back at him, a myriad of emotions playing over her face as she absorbed his words. Quickly, her sorrow gave way to stubborn tenacity – to the steely resolve that defined Rose Tyler. "And you've given up on me," she chastised sternly, echoing back his own words of oh-so-long ago; words she disproved time and again. She was now challenging him to do the same.

He gaped back at her. "I… No, but I..."

"If I'm still alive, if I'm still out there somewhere, if there is still breath in my body, do you honestly think that I would let anything keep us apart?"

His eyes dropped. "Rose, there is no way for us to reach each other. Don't you think that if there were, I would stop at nothing to make it happen?"

"I know you would look. But if there seemed to be no way then you would eventually accept your fate, like you're tryin' to do now," she answered honestly. "And then you would let that pain eat away at you until there was almost nothing left, because I know you. But I also know me. And whatever the odds might be against it, I know that I would stop at nothing to find you again. You taught me that, Doctor. _You_ did. You taught me that you don't just give up. I promised you my forever, and I _meant_ it, you daft alien git."

He almost smiled at that, his stubborn Rose. The woman who had ripped open the heart of the TARDIS itself in order to reach him again. But tenacity could only accomplish so much in the face of true impossibility. "I wish that it could be true. Oh, you have no idea how much I–"

"It _is_ true,' she firmly inserted. "Even if you don't believe in anything else, do you still believe in _me_?"

The Doctor was silent. She was the one thing he absolutely would always believe in. Looking at her now, he could do nothing _but_ believe her. "I believe in you," he found himself replying on a whisper.

Her arms came around him once more. "Good. Then hold on to that. Hold on and never forget."

Rose's strength made him believe that he truly could do _anything_. Maybe that even included giving her up again if he must.

She once again sensed his emotions, and she eased back from the embrace. Rose detected the sorrow and conflict in his eyes. "You have to let me go," she uttered, a quiet statement rather than a question.

He nodded almost indiscernibly, eyes downward. "I thought I could find a way around it. And I thought I could keep from hurting you in the meantime if I just kept enough distance…if I kept you from sensing this. I…I even…" The Doctor's voice was barely audible as he made another confession. "I prompted you into a state of sleep last night so that things wouldn't go too far between us. So that you wouldn't see."

He sensed her recoil – physically as she sat farther back and emotionally as her voice hardened. "Never, _never_ do anything like that again. You're _always_ tryin' to make decisions for me. That's gotta stop."

"Rose…I'll never have the chance to do it again," he grimly pointed out. He dared to catch her eyes, and they flashed in increasing ire. She was steadfast in her belief that they _would_ someday be together again. This, even more than her anger over his actions, caused him to stutter an apology for believing otherwise. "I…I'm sorry."

She nodded once. "Just so we're clear. 'Cause we don't have time right now for a proper row. Even if you've got it comin'." She smiled briefly and softened, taking his hand in hers. "How much longer do we have?"

He squeezed her hand, wishing to never relinquish the hold despite the inevitable. "I've let this go on too long as it is. I've tried and tried to find a way to make this work, but there isn't one. I disrupted a fixed point and created a paradox by taking you out of your established timeline," he finally admitted. "Now Time is destabilizing. Events are going to have to revert to their original order if this is to be fixed. I didn't mean to let it go this far, Rose. But I just thought…if I could see you one more time…" He shook his head. "But that wasn't enough."

"That's why you run and don't look back," she realized, voice no more than a whisper. "Because looking back is too dangerous."

His eyes lifted and locked with hers. "Much too dangerous."

"You never should have done something to cause you so much pain," she achingly concluded. "Even if it hadn't created a paradox, this has hurt you too much."

"No," he breathed out fervently. "I've caused _you_ pain now. And I'm not proud of the rules I've broken, the damage I've inflicted. But my own pain in this is nothing in comparison to the moments of…of…" His face formed an expression of awe as he regarded her intently. "Joy. The pure joy that being with you again gave me in spite of the circumstances, and no matter how brief. I've felt alive again, Rose. _Alive_."

"Some things are worth getting your heart broken for," she murmured.

"Oh, yes," he rasped. The Doctor took her face in his hands and kissed her fiercely, pouring into it his love, his anger, his pain, his fear, his determination – everything he was, felt, and hoped he could somehow be.

Moments later, the Doctor and Rose were startled apart by the sudden and violent shaking of the TARDIS. They both scrambled to their feet, and the Doctor launched himself toward the console.

"Doctor, what is it?" Rose asked, voice alarmed.

"We're being pulled out of the Vortex." He narrowed his eyes as he peered intently at the monitor. "Or more like we're being…_pushed_ out. Something's trying to slip into the same Vortex stream."

All went momentarily quiet and still. Eerily so.

Rose cast her eyes about the motionless room. "Where are we? Is the TARDIS still in the Vortex?"

The Doctor shook his head as he continued monitoring the view screen. "No."

They had been thrust out of the Vortex; and as a result, engulfed within a region of temporal turmoil as the expanding chaos overtook them, sweeping them up into a tumultuous rift in Time and Space. The Doctor was not surprised to learn the location of the rift where they now found themselves. It was the Medusa Cascade. His timelines converged here. His name was hidden here. His destruction was now centralizing here.

The Doctor had very little time to process this latest development before another matter arrested his focus.

"The TARDIS' shields are destabilizing," he bleakly announced. "She's been holding off the effects of the paradox for as long as possible, but now she–"

His words were cut short as he made another startling realization, detecting that which had slipped into their Vortex stream and forced them out. It continued following on their heels and was closing in.

It was another TARDIS, merging into their timestream. "Long time no see," he uttered grimly.

Moments later, a blinding flash of light illuminated the console room. Both occupants shielded their eyes from the glare.

The intense light faded and centralized into a single point. From that point, the white glow spread outward until the outline of a figure took shape.

The Doctor's pulse sped wildly. Even if the TARDIS had not detected it, he knew exactly what this was even still. He could _feel_ it, his Time Sense rocketing off the charts as his skin prickled.

The transporting figure solidified into the form of a man. Into the form of _himself_.

It was the Doctor. The _past_ Doctor. He had transported himself inside, facilitated by the loss of shield integrity.

Looking every bit as haggard and worn as the future Doctor – perhaps even more so – this past Doctor stared down his counterpart from a few feet away, cold fury radiating off his entire being. The increase in Time's tumult due to being in each other's paradoxical presence was eclipsed only by the increase in the younger man's rage as he locked eyes with the part of himself responsible for this mayhem.

"Do you know what you've done?!" the younger Time Lord demanded, stalking toward his double. "Do you have any idea?"

"Yeah," the future Doctor replied, voice hollow. "The same thing you'll do one day."

The other man paused under the weight of that allegation. "Not _this_ me," he countered darkly. "I won't get the chance."

The future Doctor's thoughts began to spiral with the implications, but Rose cut in.

She stepped up to the new arrival, concern and confusion drawn on her face. She knew _who_ he was. That much was clear – the Doctor she was _supposed_ to be with. She just didn't know how it was possible for him to be here, out of thin air, no less. "How did you get here? How…how did you even get inside?"

He turned his gaze to her and gave a faint smile. "My ship. I know a few tricks." His eyes met his counterpart's. "And transporting from one TARDIS to another is easier when the shields are all but nonexistent. I think you misplaced your TARDIS, by the way. I found her abandoned, sitting a second out of sync with the flow of Time around her. Did you really think that would keep me from finding her?"

"I never doubted that you would," his counterpart answered with non-gratified self-assurance. "I just didn't expect to have given you enough time to actually do so. I didn't exactly plan all this. Never do make plans, me."

"I know," his duplicate answered dryly.

"You also must have a general idea of _why_ I did this," the future Doctor stated forebodingly, making one last attempt to justify this to himself.

His earlier self swallowed roughly, gaze flicking to Rose. "That doesn't excuse it. And I can't believe I could someday reach a point when I thought it _could_ be excused. Not when Rose could be lost completely to this."

The TARDIS trembled violently again, the lights momentarily flickering as the Time Rotor groaned weakly.

"You've deactivated the shields," the future Doctor accused as he hurried to the controls in an attempt to stabilize the ship. "She won't stand a chance against the collapsing timelines without her shields at full capacity."

"I didn't deactivate them," the past Doctor corrected grimly. "If you hadn't been so busy shagging your way into the past, you might have noticed the ship falling apart around you."

The Doctor at the controls shot him back a hard look. Despite the current peril, Rose had the grace to flush a deep shade of pink as she stood between the two Time Lords.

"Is it that obvious?" she mumbled, self-consciously smoothing her sex-tousled hair.

The haggard face of her past Doctor softened as he focused on her. "Always. And I know myself too well." He looked back to his counterpart. "She's coming with me." He stretched out his hand to her. "Rose, I need to explain what we have to do."

The future Doctor's face set like flint. "You think I'm going to let you be the one to take her back so that I lose my last few moments with her? I don't think so. I won't give that up to _anyone_."

A deep dimple appeared on the younger Time Lord's cheek as his jaw tightened. "You don't have a choice."

"Stop it!" Rose ordered between them. "The pair of you! This is madness. The two of you here…arguin' with _yourself_. Having both of you here now is like a fantasy gone horribly wrong," she muttered, earning mirrored raised brows. "You're the _same_ man," she continued. "And that's the problem. You both want the same thing and won't back down from that for anyone." The TARDIS shook and rumbled loudly once again, jostling those inside as they tried to keep their balance. "But there's a major issue going on here, and I'm guessing there isn't time to stand around arguin' about it."

"She's right," the younger Doctor agreed, eyes set on his double. "There _isn't_ time. Because with or without shields, the TARDIS can't hold this off any longer. You know it's bad. You can feel it. But you haven't felt it as strongly as I have because your timeline extends beyond the moment where things first began to splinter. Mine, however, was at the heart of it. So I think you need a visual of what I can feel – what will overtake your own timeline if this goes much farther."

He turned and walked down the ramp, wrenching open the TARDIS' doors to reveal what existed beyond.

Rose gasped and took an automatic step back, while both Doctors looked on in shame. Beyond the doors of the ship lay chaos itself, surrounding and closing in on them. A temporal storm of collapsing timelines churned and convulsed, violent streaks and whorls of disordered energy blazing a tumultuous, haphazard course all around them. In its present state, their location wasn't even recognizable as the Medusa Cascade. It had transformed into mayhem.

"I was going to take Rose back to the proper time and place," the future Doctor choked out. "I…I was going to fix this."

"It's too late," his younger self stated severely. "It's gone too far. This can't just be written over and memories suppressed. This has to be _completely_ undone. The only way to break a paradox this strong before it spreads further and any more damage occurs is to remove the wrongfully-altered timelines altogether – the ones that are at the heart of all this. If those improper timelines cease to exist, so will the paradox."

The younger Doctor turned from the doors and approached Rose. He cupped her cheek with a weary, tremoring hand. "That means you and me. The instant you were taken away and a fixed point disrupted, the timelines from that moment forward began to deteriorate with each progressive minute that passed, altering established events with every continuing second. But if the paradox ends, everything prior to that point will still be intact, the corrupted central segment will heal itself as Time reverts, and the future will be spared."

Rose looked between her two Doctors, eyes fighting to maintain courage. "So what…what do we do to stop it?"

Her Doctor took her hand and gave it a firm squeeze. "We run. Straight out those doors. Straight into Time. Back to where we belong. Back to our original history, whatever it may hold. The paradox will collapse inward without our corrupted timelines to propagate it. And if we force a collapse in this way, our current timelines will revert back to the point just before all this began – before the paradox was formed."

Rose managed to keep a steady voice. "And who we are right this second, everything that happened yesterday and today, will that be lost?"

His eyes were somber. "Yes."

"_No."_

They both turned to see the future Doctor moving toward them. "No," he repeated. "It won't be lost. I'll still remember. My current timeline exists beyond the past segment that became splintered, so I'll still be aware of all that happened even after the past reverts. As far as Time is concerned, it will be as if it hadn't happened. But as your timelines revert, I'll be here within the eye of the storm. I'll remember. And that's good," he added, exhaling shakily as his eyes fixed on the chaos beyond. "I'll need the reminder, I think."

Rose moved toward him, voice resolute. "Then remember this too, Doctor. Don't give up. Not on me. Not on us. But in the meantime, promise me that you'll move on. That fantastic life goes both ways, yeah?" Her eyes shone with unshed tears as she gazed into his soul. "And just…don't be alone. Find someone. Let them be there for you. Even if it's just one trip."

His smile quavered as it fought to form. "I'll…I'll try." Even with this agreement, he could see the pain in Rose's eyes. Perhaps she was even falling into the same trap that he had allowed to ensnare him, seeing the cost of such a transient relationship rather than the immeasurable gain. He illuminated this overshadowed fact with the radiant truth. "I'd be dead without you, Rose Tyler. You saved my life. Not just once but countless times. Then you taught me how to take that life and live it again. And being with you again, even though it broke so many rules and it couldn't last, reminded me of _life_. You reminded me how to go on…how to live. And I will…because of you." He took her hands and placed them on his chest, over his hearts. "You're _right_ _here_ and always will be. You helped me see clearly enough to realize that."

Rose choked back a sob that was both joyful and aching as she wrapped him in an embrace. She breathed out the only words that could aptly serve as a response. "I _love_ you."

"Oh, Rose Tyler. When I had one last chance to say this I ran out of time. So I best say this while I still can: I–"

Rose brushed her fingers over his lips and whispered, "Not like this. I already know. But…tell me again one day when we have more time, yeah?"

His voice trembled yet his answer was strong. "_Yes_."

Her current Doctor came behind her and placed a gentle hand on her shoulder. Rose turned to him as a single tear streaked down her cheek. He caught it with his thumb and chased its trail with his lips. "It's time," he whispered. She nodded.

She took his hand in hers and gripped tightly. The ephemeral Doctor and Rose then turned to face their past and their future, their ending and their beginning.

With a quivering voice yet bravery in her eyes beyond her years, Rose whispered three words to her Doctor.

"Let's just run…"

Together, they leapt out of the TARDIS and into the fragments of Time.

-:-:-:-

The Doctor momentarily lost all sense of Time's linear progression as he stood staring after the ghostly timelines, numb and immobilized. It wasn't until the TARDIS pitched roughly that he was roused back to the moment. The corrupted timelines were collapsing in on themselves at a rapid rate as the paradox began the process of righting itself, which meant this past TARDIS would soon dissipate and revert along with it, returning to her former established history and past presence upon Barcelona. She fought with the last of her energy to maintain structural integrity long enough for the Doctor to transport back to his rightful ship.

He pulled himself over to the console and hastily, if not shakily, initiated the sequence, breathing both a thanks and an apology to his past TARDIS before fading away and back to his appropriate place in Time.

Time proceeded to mend itself, threads reforming and weaving back over the gaping holes that had been torn in its fabric. Some wounds were immediately healed. Others would take far longer.


	12. Epilogue

**A/N** Extra special thanks to my dear friend **T'Kirr** for listening to my incessant rambling over the plot and serving as an invaluable sounding board when some of the details had my head twisted in knots. You are awesome!

This was one of the angstiest and most difficult stories I've written, so I want to say a heartfelt thank you to each one of you who had the commitment to see it through and took the time to show your interest and encouragement along the way. This was necessary to lay the groundwork for the coming story, shaping the Doctor's frame of mind and paving the way for an AU path sans _Journey's End_. Now, if you look closely here at the end, you'll see that silver lining I promised. Tuck it away in your memory, because it'll eventually be turning up again. ;)

The next and final sequel for this 'verse, _Beginning Again_, will launch in a couple of weeks. I hope to see you then!

* * *

**Epilogue**

The last of the Time Lords was once again alone. The Doctor and Rose's past timelines had been restored. Fixed points stood unmoved and unyielding, as they were meant to be. Which meant the separation of the Doctor and Rose at Canary Wharf was once again an inevitable fact of the universe.

Time had been in a state of chaotic shambles, but once the situation began to right itself, multiple wounds that had been created in the temporal fabric had begun to heal. The divergent timelines of Rose, the Doctor's past self, and all that had splintered out from that point had collapsed in on themselves and vanished. Time was once again reset from the moment before the Doctor had created the paradox.

There would still be echoes and ripples from the damaging event until the last frayed threads fully mended. And even once it faded, the current Doctor responsible for it all would still always know. He carried no repressed memories of experiencing this as his younger self, since that reality now ceased to exist, but he would never forget his actions from this current perspective. Past events had fallen back in place, but what he had done as he stood in the eye of the storm would remain in his memories. Perhaps he needed that. He needed to carry the memory of the consequences so he would not be tempted to ravage the rules again in such a costly way.

The Doctor's personal timeline, though falling back into place in the past, was still experiencing a lingering bit of reverberating turbulence that rippled forward. He would feel disquieted aftershocks for some time to come.

Despite the fact that Time was rectifying itself, he needed to be certain that everything was truly mending as it should.

And so, the Doctor journeyed back to the one place that would give him the clearest vantage point for confirming the correct flow of his own timestream. This was the last place he wanted to revisit in light of recent events, but it had to be done. He set a course for the Medusa Cascade.

With his homeworld no longer in existence, the Doctor's timeline was entwined within this place more intricately than any other. This rift in Time and Space was the sort of place that pulled an inquisitive being such as himself like a magnet. His first visit had been in his mere youth, when the urge to run and explore drew him to this mystifying area as he sought to discover its secrets. With Gallifrey now gone, the entirety of his timeline throughout the whole of creation, spanning multiple centuries and multiple lives, could now be traced back, at its earliest, to this very place, then branching out from here as his travels spanned the universe.

Despite his innumerable and diverse travels since that time, his return visits here were many, this place harkening him back to his origins. And most significant of all was the fact that his name itself was hidden in this very expanse, burning in the stars. His life both converged and diverged from this portion of the galaxy; and thus, this was where he returned and observed as the threads of his life were woven back together.

Drifting within the heart of the Cascade, the Doctor stood at the open doors of the TARDIS, looking out at the spellbinding scene which lay beyond. The Cascade itself held an aura of haunted beauty – gasses of turquoise, magenta and gold swirling throughout like the sweeping strokes of an artist's brush on a canvas of potential.

Within this mysterious realm, the Doctor's own timeline, though in the process of being restored, was still in a tumultuous state. Knots were untwisting, severed chords mending, and countless future possibilities arising from the repaired threads.

Time was once again being put right, and from here, anything was possible. Every breath he took, every move he made would assign a path to what was now simply a world of possibilities.

Transfixed, the Doctor observed the ethereal scene as possibility upon possibility played out before him. He had no idea what his future would truly hold, but the possible outcomes were staggering.

With chilling fright, he witnessed a glimpse of what could have been had Rose not been lost to him at Canary Wharf. He realized with sickening clarity that she could have been lost in countless other ways. Death by asphyxiation on the Moon, burned alive within the heart of an enraged sun, tortured at the hands of a madman whom he could not see clearly, but somehow perceived as a mortal enemy.

This abysmal tangle of possibilities quickly wafted away and would never come to pass now that Canary Wharf was once again an unyielding fixed point. The Doctor looked on, only to see another perplexing jumble of potentials drift to the surface. Something else could have arisen from this very place. Something dark and deadly.

'_Twenty-seven planets,' _he caught mention of on a vaporous echo.

A new name for himself could have been formed here… _'Destroyer of Worlds.'_

This place had the potential of housing a battle, the likes of which was capable of jeopardizing all of reality, and influencing _his own_ in monumental ways. From this rare vantage point, he could see it in fleeting glimpses of tiny, jumbled fragments and whispered echoes…

'_Don't die. Oh my God, don't die!'_

'_Instantaneous biological metacrisis…'_

'_They've all got someone else. Still, that's fine. I'm fine...'_

'_In the end, they break my heart…'_

'_I don't want to go…'_

The brief glimpses fell apart, dissipating and scattering off into infinity, this possible course now seeming never to be. Whatever might have stemmed from the potential battle in this place, the currently-tumultuous Cascade itself now seemed too unstable to sustain such a raging storm due to the temporal upheaval that had taken place and was still rippling through here. Whether this possible significant change was ultimately a good or bad thing in the scheme of the Doctor's life, only Time itself would tell.

The Doctor squeezed his eyes shut, blocking out the muddled scene. He couldn't process any more. There was no guarantee that anything he had seen here was set or fixed. Time could literally go in _any_ direction depending on where his steps led him, what decisions were made, what possibilities were embraced. He had seen enough of his possible futures to at least know that the past was being repaired. Where his steps would lead from here, he would simply have to discover moment by moment, with each passing minute, each passing hour.

He was about to turn away and shut the doors, leaving Time to weave its story. But one last potential among the masses seized his attention and held him for just a brief moment longer.

Through the tempest and the haze of Time, he could make out another TARDIS on the outskirts of the Cascade. This TARDIS, a mirror image of his own, was hovering over the mending timelines, the doors open for its occupants to observe the mystifying scene. He could distinguish who he knew to be a potential version of himself. Beside him stood the woman who had now woven herself into nearly every thread of his existence in some form or fashion.

Rose.

He almost imagined that her eyes actually met his from across the divide. It was as if she was really seeing him, was really _there_, rather than a mere filament of potential. She appeared to speak, though the words eluded him. He saw the image of his own self turn to her, whisper in her ear, then draw back. She smiled, a heart-stopping smile, then stepped back and closed the doors of the ship. It vanished, lost amid the swirl of possibilities.

For a moment he could barely breathe. His mind began to whirl as he considered the prospective significance of this fleeting glimpse. At this point, dare he even hope?

The Doctor staggered back and closed the doors to his own ship. Even for a Time Lord, seeing the raw confusion of endless future prospects any longer would have been enough to drive him mad.

He had absolutely no way of knowing what tomorrow would bring. Or the next day, or the next. All he could do was put one foot in front of the other and attempt to go on. He had been doing it for so many centuries and grown weary of the process. But through all this, Rose had reminded him of its great importance and held him accountable for doing just that. Perhaps his actions had served one definite purpose after all.

He would move on.

And no matter where his steps would lead him throughout all of Time, no matter which possible future timeline would become an unchangeable fact, Rose would be with him still. If not by his side, then in his hearts. Always.

On this day, the Doctor finally moved onwards. Because sometimes, even for those with all of Time seemingly at their command, the only direction that could be taken was forward.


End file.
